Silver
by Eltanin Rose
Summary: 'Please. I'm begging you. W-whatever you have p-planned,' her eyes moved from the woman, to the Time-Turner and back again. 'You don't have t-to do i-it.'
1. Prologue: Broken

**Summary: **EWE. A moment of distraction alters Hermione's life. Trapped in the past, she struggles to decide between what is right and what is easy. A choice needed to be made, but before that, she had to live again.

Sirius Black's life revolved around an endless war and living his life to the fullest. His priorities were rather straight forward: Protect his chosen family, fight and fuck. Nothing else registered. Nothing else mattered. But then she came along and changed his world forever.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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Betaed by the wonderful TheUnrealInsomniac.

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**Silver**

Prologue: Broken

* * *

Night had fallen and though the spring chill had long ago numbed her exposed flesh, Hermione couldn't help but smile.

The image of Ron, brushing her hair aside, so he could kiss her newly exposed neck was on the forefront of her mind. The memory of his lips moving against her skin burned through her and the flesh below her ear tingled. A wayward curl had sprung back and with a soft smile, he'd tucked it behind her ear.

Her heart fluttered and she sighed- which quickly turned into a startled gasp, as the spell that had been holding her hostage was lifted.

A sudden shock of awareness and a wave of painful sensations gripped her.

Every inch of her body ached. She was shivering and felt feverish.

Disoriented, Hermione blinked and felt the room spin and tilt around her. Her head was throbbing. Her back ached and her hips screamed in protest with her every move. Mouth, dry. Her tongue felt thick and swollen. It hurt to swallow and her belly clenched as a painful stomach cramp coursed through her. All her aches and pains however were easily dwarfed by an overwhelming thirst.

'Water. Ple-ase,' she whispered into the darkness. Her voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. 'Water...'

'I'm going to light a candle and let your eyes adjust,' warned her captor. 'Prepare yourself sweetheart.'

A silent incantation, a flash of light and the room filled with a faint, golden glow that seared her eyes.

'Please,' she begged. Her need for water growing by the second.

'Of course love.'

A twirl of a wand and mumbled spells later, found her drinking from a conjured goblet.

'I do hope you forgive me Hermione. Leaving you for this long had not been my intention, I'm sorry.'

Though warm and funny tasting, she savoured every gulp of the crisp liquid. Focused on satisfying her thirst, Hermione didn't hear her kidnapper's words. As the goblet vanished from her grasp, she cried out in surprise and longing.

'That's enough,' her kidnapper gently chastised. 'Too much too soon and you'll get sick.'

Eyes shut tight and chest heaving, Hermione fought back choked sobs.

Neck sore, she bowed her head and cried out as her back spasmed.

_Days,_ her mind whispered.

Blurry eyes opened and darted towards the figure as a warming charm rippled across her skin.

The previous charm had worn off, exposing her to the cold that'd drifted in from the broken window. On average, that particular spell lasted two days, three depending on the caster's magical ability. She knew the witch was powerful- the proof lay in the strength of her spellwork, so, she calculated, The Woman had been gone three to four days.

Which meant she'd been here over a week.

Her eyes slammed shut and her jaw clenched as she fought the urge to scream and rage at the unstable woman. It wouldn't help, she knew. The Woman's last visit was proof enough. In a fit of anger and desperation, Hermione had yelled and screamed and it'd led to this.

Another spasm shot down her spine and a sob was ripped from her throat.

The tinkling sound of glass knocking together reached her ears and Hermione opened her eyes. Relief and gratitude rushed through her, swiftly followed by disgust and self-loathing.

Hovering on the opposite side of the wards and fighting to get picked first, were three distinct vials.

'For pain,' said the older woman, as a sparkling blue, pear-shaped bottle flew to her.

'Pepper-up,' a round, charcoal grey bottle passed invisible wards with a slight hiss. Followed by a long, thin vial with a burnt yellow potion inside, 'And vitamins.'

She didn't hesitate to drink them. The pain was too much.

Besides, The Woman could easily curse her into drinking them. She'd done it before. After the first few times, Hermione had decided to just go with it.

So she drank them. One after the other.

Her mind shouting at her for doing it, even as her body thanked her.

Renewed energy coursed through her, sharpening her mind and senses. Her aches dulled and faded**. **

'Good girl. You'll feel much better soon,' cooed The Woman.

Hermione cringed at the motherly tone and words.

Haunted eyes focused on her feet, blinking away the urge to stare at the unmoving body, laying feet away from her.

She wouldn't look.

Looking at the decaying, _still breathing_ body only rattled her flayed nerves.

After everything she had seen and lived through, she'd believed she could face whatever life threw at her but she'd been wrong.

Nothing could have prepared her for the effects of the Dementor's Kiss.

The blank look, the drooling, the slack jaw- it was as she'd read, except for one minute detail. All books on the subject had failed to mention that the flesh of a Kissed individual would begin to rot, even as the body continued to live.

That nugget of information had come from the elder witch herself.

The situation was made all the worse by the fact that the Kissed person was a little boy, no older than seven. Her kidnapper, the child's mother.

As if summoned by mere thoughts, The Woman crouched on the opposite side of the wards and gave Hermione a beaming smile.

'Guess what?' she whispered excitedly. 'I found it!'

To prove her point, the dark haired witch reached into her robes and pulled out a black velvet pouch.

Tears fell down The Woman's face as a joyful laugh escaped her. Her watery smile growing wider as she gently rattled the pouch.

Sparing it a glance, Hermione licked her lips and cleared her scratchy throat.

'Please let me go,' she rasped out, an evident tremor in her voice.

The Woman's smile fell and her eyes grew cold.

'Stop saying that,' she spat. 'I've told you, _repeatedly_ that I can't do that!'

The witch glared at her before she stood and began to pace the small room.

'After _everything_ I've done for you! And she still... Always asking me to-to...' She rounded on Hermione. 'Why can't you see that this is for the best?! _Why don't you understand?!'_

Hermione sat frozen, brown eyes following The Woman's every move.

In an odd Stockholm Syndrome kind of way, the woman was right. She had been treated fairly well, all things considered.

She was kept relatively warm, healthy to an extent and even though she had been Imperiused throughout, she hadn't been made to kill or do anything horrible. Rather, she'd been ordered to focus on her happiest memories and to not move.

_Held prisoner by her happiest memories._

She honestly didn't know whether to be grateful for that or not.

The Woman continued to stare at her and when no answer came, she shook her head as if disappointed. She made her way to the only piece of furniture in the room- a candle filled table, on which she placed the small pouch.

The Woman turned. Her eyes moving over the runes surrounding her, studying them. Blue eyes moved upwards and though they roamed over her face, Hermione had the sense that the older witch was looking through her.

'You need to understand, so you can see the why,' the mother said as she nodded absentmindedly. 'He was right. Yeah... You need to know...'

A rattled breath broke the silence of the room and The Woman flinched. A flicker of desperation flashed in her eyes.

'W-we'd been promised their safety. As long as we obeyed, they'd be fine,' said the elder woman, her eyes meeting Hermione's gaze.

'So of course we listened. Because we worked in the same department, we'd been split up... To guarantee our continued support they'd said... I hadn't seen Evie or Adan in months, but I hadn't worried because they'd promised and we'd listened. I'd done everything they said and he would've never allowed... H-he would've... di-ed before letting anything happen to he-er.' The Woman's eyebrows furrowed and her teary eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. Confusion marring her dirtied features. 'I don't know what happened to them,' she said in a small voice. 'I-I'd been working in the Brain Room when they started leaving...'

Hermione felt her gut drop and her eyes widen as they roamed over the disheveled woman.

'You're an Unspeakable,' she breathed out.

The Woman blinked, turning to her. She nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

'They were all Disapparating and yelling..._'Harry Potter is at Hogwarts! Harry Potter is at Hogwarts!'_... I-I don't know how I got down there, the corridors were so crowded... Aurors and Death Eaters were fighting and people were running and dueling... Even at night, the Ministry was busy... But I-I had a-a-and I found hi-im. A D-Dement... i-it was o-over hi - _NOOO!'_

Hermione stared in horror as The Woman clutched at her head and fell to her knees. Heart-wrenching sobs escaping her.

A swarm of Dementors, rushing towards her during The Final Battle, flashed through her mind.

If Death Eaters and Ministry officials alike had been called to battle, then the Dementors had been left largely unattended. Nothing had stopped them from attacking.

_She witnessed her son being Kissed._

Dark eyes left the rocking woman and drifted to the body of the little boy, atop a stained mattress. His open eyes staring and unseeing of the wooden planks above him. Slow, rattling breaths escaping his opened mouth. The corner of which, Hermione noted in morbid fascination, was black and green. Dark brown sludge oozing from the putrid flesh.

'_Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum! EXPECTO PATRO-_NUM!'

Hermione flinched and scrambled backwards into her little corner, taking refuge in its shadows. The cold and jagged stone dug into her skin, but the pain barely registered.

She was terrified.

She didn't know how long The Woman had kept her prisoner. It was all a riddled mess of starvation and thirst, forced potion consumption and orders commanded under the Imperius Curse.

She didn't know where she was, how long she'd been here or if anyone so much as suspected a mad Unspeakable of taking her. Death Eaters would've been the primary suspects, easily followed by Voldemort sympathizers. Beyond them... perhaps that was the extent of the suspect list. After all, who would think a grieving mother dangerous?

Hermione flinched again, pressing herself further into the shadowed corner as The Woman crawled to her son and cradled him to her chest.

'Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron,' she mumbled under her breath.

Hope that she'd be heard through the Deluminator burned in her chest.

When Hermione realised it wasn't a Death Eater who'd taken her, foolish arrogance had kicked in. She'd thought she could reach The Woman and talk her out of whatever plan she had- it'd been pointless.

Soon afterwards, she remembered the Deluminator and began calling out for him, praying he would hear her voice.

He - _they_ \- had yet to find her.

It was only a matter of time she kept telling herself.

She would be saved soon enough.

Her eyes moved over the purple runes and just as quickly, returned to the distraught woman.

She hadn't had time to study the lighter-shaped artifact, so she didn't know how it worked.

Perhaps they had to be thinking of each other at the exact moment in time. Or when they wanted to be together desperately. Or it only worked when the other was lost. Either way, she called him every time her mind cleared.

Unfortunately, the moments of lucidity were too few and far between. Or so she assumed. She had no real sense of time.

She knew she'd been taken in the morning, two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts.

After refusing their help and assuring Ron and Harry that she would be back before dinner, she had left the Burrow and Apparated outside of Hogwarts. She was only going to the library. Nothing to worry about she'd told them. She'd be back soon. It was fine.

Hermione slammed her eyes shut as The Woman let out another scream.

There was some comfort in the knowledge that Monica and Wendell Wilkins were happy and blissfully unaware of her situation.

She'd been careless.

She had formed a routine. Had been too damn distracted and had stupidly grown confident in her safety. She'd foolishly let her guard down at a time when the war was very much an open wound.

She should have known better.

This was all her fault.

Warm tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the weeping mother. With a trembling hand she quickly wiped them away.

Hermione had gone over that day repeatedly, wondering if she had missed a warning sign. She remembered walking past stationed Aurors, up the wooded path and... it had all happened so fast.

A painful blow to her back. Flying through the air- the smell of earth and the feel of prickly grass against her cheek. Then nothing.

When she next opened her eyes, she had found herself here.

Alone, in a corner of what she soon realised was a cellar, encased within a glowing runic circle and wandless.

Try as she might, the runes had been unfamiliar to her so breaking the spell chain had been impossible. The electric and burning sensation the ward created had quickly turned her away from trying to erase a rune again. After hours of yelling and making as much noise as possible, she had given up on being heard. The runes it seemed, did much more than stop her from escaping.

She'd been alone those first two days.

From the solitary window she could see blades of grass and behind them, she had witnessed night fall twice. After that, hunger, thirst and exhaustion had given way to restless sleep. On the third day, her captor had shown her face.

The Woman had straight, black, shoulder length hair. Dull blue eyes and thin lips. There was nothing exceptional about her. Were it not for the crazed gleam in her eyes, she was easily forgettable. Everything about her blended her into the background.

_'Hush... little baby... don't say a word...'_

The younger witch ran startled and weary eyes over the broken mother. Her belly clenched as she sung her slow and haunting lullaby. Dread filled her.

The Woman had never sung before.

Beginning on the third day, a pattern had soon formed. Until today, it hadn't changed. The Woman would show up, lift the curse and feed her potions. After crying and rambling mindlessly, she'd grow angry the moment Hermione begged for her freedom. In a twisted way, it had been reassuring.

That small comfort however, was now gone. All because of a child's song.

Something in her captor's eyes had changed she realised. Brown eyes moved away from The Woman to the table. It's cause, she knew, the unknown factor that was a small pouch. Shaking, Hermione watched as the older witch composed herself - much quicker than before she noted - lay down her son, stood and picked up the velvet sack.

'You'll go back and fix this,' said The Woman, her voice thick and filled with conviction. 'She will.'

A solitary nod followed her statement as she reached into the pouch and pulled out a metallic chain.

Squinting, Hermione set tired eyes upon the object The Woman was holding. Just as quickly, she felt them widen as a shocked gasp escaped her. Through the dim glow of the candle light, she recognised the shapes and curves of a Time-Turner.

Her gut dropped and the room spun around her.

'No,' she whispered in disbelief, even as her heart began to race. 'It's impossible. They were all destroyed... _They were all destroyed.'_

The crazed mother said nothing.

Her entire focus centred on the magical object, a serene smile on her face.

Hermione was so sure the elder witch hadn't heard her, that she was startled when The Woman spoke.

'No,' replied the Unspeakable, her thumb caressing the small hour glass. 'That was a lie ... Why would you think they would tell the truth?' The witch shook her head, giggling. 'Never trust those who hold the power, to tell the truth Hermione.' The elder woman's bright eyes met her stare. 'They're often the most dangerous.'

Hermione returned her gaze. Unable to look away as a new fear gripped her.

She finally allowed the thought that she'd been keeping at bay to take form. If she was honest, she may have known it the second her tired eyes settled on the Time-Turner.

The mad gleam in the mother's eyes had been unmistakable. It had been the same look Harry had given her all those years ago.

_You'll go back and fix this._

Her heart pounded in her ears, her limbs shook and a dull ache built in her. A knot in her throat made it hard to swallow.

'_I mark the hours, every one... Nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you,'_ muttered The Woman, twisting the Time-Turner to read the inscription.

_'Are gauged by what you have to do.'_

Hermione had read those words so many times during her third year, they had become engraved in her mind. As much a part of her as they had the golden metal.

Her tears fell fast and hard as her fear spilled over.

"Don't cry dear," said The Woman. Her voice soothing and comforting. "Shhh… It will be alright I promise. You will never have to be scared ever again… We'll fix this."

'No,' whispered Hermione, horrified. Her fear turning to desperation. _'No!'_

The older witch couldn't do this to her. _She couldn't._

'Please!' cried Hermione as the Unspeakable looked at her. 'Just let me go! _Please?!' _

The mother blinked, staring at her with a puzzled expression. Confusion on her tear tracked features.

'Are you aware that you were the first person in a century to use one of these?' asked the Unspeakable. 'Then one day, out of the blue, rumours spread that Dumbledore had approached Croaker with a request to allow the use of one. For a clever thirteen year old little girl. So she could do homework. And to kindly keep the fact off the record.'

'Please,' begged Hermione. 'I want to go home. _Please.'_

For a second, The Woman's eyes flickered with emotion. Her eyes moved over Hermione, to the runes and darted across the room, taking in her surroundings as if seeing them for the first time.

'No,' mumbled the grieving mother, clutching desperately at her cloak. 'No.'

In a blink of the eye, The Woman's emotions switched from tears to anger. _'No!' _She snarled. 'You _have_ to do this! _Don't you see?!_ No one else knows how to use the damn thing! Croaker made sure of that! Always with his silence or half-truths!'

Hermione trembled in her confined space as she eyed the unstable woman.

Wand in hand and muttering to herself, the witch craddled the Time-Turner to her chest. Words of _I have to, she'll do it_ and _it'll be okay baby_ escaped her lips before growing quiet.

The mother frowned. She sat the powerful object down and made her way towards her child, once again cradling him to her chest. The witch ran a trembling hand through his brown hair, pressing his face into the crook of her neck as she smiled. Cracked lips moving against the shell of his small ear.

The silence grew heavy and for a while only The Woman moved.

With a lick of her lips, Hermione broke the quiet of the room. Her soothing tone ruined by the tremor in her voice.

'Please. I'm begging you. W-whatever you have p-planned,' her eyes moved from the woman, to the Time-Turner and back again. 'You don't have t-to do i-it.'

Silent tears ran down the elder woman's face as she continued to sing, naked breast bared to the soulless shell that had once been her son.

'Please,' whispered Hermione.

'I remember thinking, _such pretty lights_. My brother had been a few years younger than me and he'd once said that magic was a bit like _Star Wars_,' she said amidst a hollow laugh. 'All pretty lights and different worlds... He was right in a way. All great stories have an epic war between light and dark... and start with a tragedy...'

She swallowed thickly as The Woman grew silent again, her eyes dazed.

A flurry of movement and Hermione pressed herself further into the wall as the older witch stood below the window, gazing upwards into the darkened sky. Her tears glistening in the candle light.

'I'd lived at the bottom of the hill and we'd seen everything. Every flash and bang... Except that last. The spell had flown in my direction a-and it was so pretty! Like... like green lightning!' said The Woman, laughing. Just as suddenly as it came, it was gone, replaced by a frown and quiet tone. 'Nan jumped in front of me and then she was on top of me, squishing me. She smelt like ointment and fags... Obliviators arrived soon after and they were made to forget... heart attack the doctors said but I hadn't been, so I knew the truth... he'd said I needed to _understand_. That _our_ kind was to blame and that I needed to _see_ what we were doing... I didn't know until much later what the pretty green flashes of light were. Or how someone had been able to turn the clouds into a skull and snake... I hadn't thought of that night in years. Lately, it's all I can think about...'

The Woman raised her left hand, staring into her empty palm. Flexing her fingers and spreading them apart.

'It seems like all my problems came from magic,' she murmured. 'So logically... magic too can yield the solution...'

'Please let me go,' begged Hermione, heavy tears blurring her vision. 'I won't say a thing. Please.'

The older witch ignored her as she walked towards the table.

'I didn't want to do this to you Hermione. You must know that, but you seemed the perfect candidate. The last known time-traveler and Harry Potter's best friend to boot... If anyone knows how to change things for the better, it's you. All you have to-'

'-No! Please! You don't have to do this! Please stop!'

'It's for the best,' said The Woman as she studied the Time-Turner. Her voice flat and void of emotion. 'You'll see.'

Heart racing and terrified eyes focused on the witch, Hermione reached out to the runic symbols.

A searing sting raced up her arm and her every nerve cell burned. Her vision blurred and all the air left her lungs. Her fingertips grew wet and the smell of burning flesh and copper perfumed the air. A vicious shock ran up her arm, drawing away all logic and reason and she cried out. Still, she refused to stop.

'Stop that! You're hurting yourself!'

Setting the Time-Turner down, The Woman stalked towards her.

Hermione flung herself backwards into the wall. _'No!_ Stay away from me. Dont touch me! _Please don't do this! PLEASE!_' she yelled, her heart beating a violent tattoo against her chest. 'PLEASE DONT DO THIS TO ME! RON! HARRY! _MUM!_'

The witch stopped dead in her tracks.

She slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head. The Woman raised her hand and began beating it against her forehead. The sound of slapping flesh rang throughout the room, breaking the silence that had followed Hermione's desperate cries.

Hermione could do nothing beyond watch with trembling limbs, dry lips and rapidly falling tears.

Scared of bringing attention to herself, she willed her shaking body to still. Positive that the elder witch could hear every beat of her heart and that every exhaled breath echoed across the walls. She wished they wouldn't be so loud.

Now that she knew her purpose, _why_ she had been taken - she would not make a sound.

No sooner had she thought that, did a strangled breath ring throughout the room.

The Woman's eyes shot open.

Hermione's eyes darted to the small decaying body and just as quickly returned to the unstable mother before her.

She saw The Woman raise her wand and Hermione knew what was going to happen half a second before it did.

_'NO!'_ cried Hermione as she raised her arms, trying to shield herself.

_'-Imperio!'_

She heard the rushing sound, saw a rainbow coloured flash... and a sense of calm.

She felt relaxed. Her troubles non-existent. There was only comfort and peace. A deep happiness that assured her everything was fine.

The witch moved but it didn't matter. She heard and felt the rune circle break, but it barely registered. She'd known it was important and for a brief moment, Ron's face swam before her eyes. Before a thought could form, his image was pushed aside by a distant echo.

_'Pick up the Time-Turner... Pick up the Time-Turner...'_

Her feet moved. Her hand reached out and then she was holding the small hourglass with blood stained fingers.

Almost instantly, the time piece begin to rattle and glow a brilliant white. A final shudder and the eerie glow faded away, leaving behind a silver Time-Turner.

A brush against her arm, an exhilarated laugh and rapid muttering.

_'Fascinating... Unexpected... Problematic...'_

Her heart raced. The Woman's voice grew clearer and Hermione frowned. She saw the black-haired witch approach her and felt cold fingers brush her fringe aside. A strange expression on the elder woman's face, the corners of her mouth curving upwards.

She blinked, brown eyes studying the Time-Turner in her hand, knowing something was wrong.

'Thank you Hermione. This - I...' the older woman shook her head. Her eyes bright and a beautiful smile on her otherwise plain face. Chapped lips caressed her forehead. 'Safe trip love.'

The Unspeakable raised her wand one final time and a new echo whispered its command.

_'Turn the hourglass 23 times...'_

Her hand shook as she followed her orders.

_One... two..._

Her eyes stung and her chest ached.

_... Ten... Eleven... Twelve..._

Bloody fingers slipped as silent tears moved down her cheeks.

A twinge in the back of her mind. A distant voice.

_Fight it! __Fight it Hermione! Are you a witch or aren't you?!_

As quickly as it had come, it was gone. Pressure behind her eyes urging her to finish the task.

_... Seventeen..._

The hourglass' smooth surface turned over and over again in her palm.

This was wrong.

She didn't want to do this.

She wanted to go home.

She had to complete her task first though.

_... Twenty-three._

Her heart pounded in her ears. Her body trembled. Hermione blinked, swallowing thickly as the seconds passed.

_It didn't work,_ a voice whispered to her and a heaviness settled on her chest, making it harder to breathe.

Somewhere in the room, The Woman had begun to sing her lullaby.

Then the Time-Turner began to tremble.

It burned that brilliant, luminescent white again and all the air seemed to leave the room. Hermione felt a powerful gust of wind slam against her chest. Suddenly, she was flying backwards at a rapid speed. Colours and shapes were rushing past her, bleeding into each other, becoming one giant unrecognizable mass.

As the world she knew disappeared from under her feet, in a swirling vortex of colour and rushing sound, did the spell completely lift.

Her head began to pound. She struggled as her body twisted and turned. Violent wind rushed past her, causing her hair to whip her in the face. She couldn't breathe and her lungs burned from lack of oxygen.

Then her feet touched solid ground. Her shaking knees buckled from under her and she fell forward, landing on her hands and knees.

Trembling all over, gasping for breath and running on pure instinct she raised her head.

Only to find herself at the end of a wand.

Following its upward path, she found herself staring into a pair of frightened blue eyes, framed by red hair. Flashes of colour highlighting his bloodied features.

A vivid green light danced across his bruised flesh, giving his pale skin and wild eyes a greenish hue- turning the blood on his face a rustic brown. He looked as if he'd been Kissed she idly mused.

And then she began to scream.

* * *

**A****/N:** Hello. Welcome to my fic.

I've had this plot bunny in my head for quite some time but never did anything with it. Then one random day, after another failed attempt at searching for an M-rated, EWE, Time-Turner fic that focused on realism, I finally gave in and wrote it down.

Hopefully, my little prologue was enticing enough to keep some of you interested. Whether you continue on to the next chapter or not, I thank you for giving _Silver_ a try.

Either way, reviews are encouraged and they will be loved.

Erica x


	2. Lost

Many thanks to my beta David James (_TheUnrealInsomniac_) for turning my mish mash of words into an actual chapter.

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**Silver**

Lost

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It was a quarter to midnight and the people of the small, working town Sirius found himself in were fast asleep.

Every so often, the sound of laughter cut through the silence. At this hour and in a place like this, it could only mean one thing- last call had come and gone.

With the exception of a few stragglers, he'd been alone most of the night.

Normally, the silence would've been cause for alarm but in this particular occasion, it was a good thing.

It meant they hadn't been found out or discovered.

With its old buildings and houses, you could easily see the bones of a once charming little town. Over the years however, it had fallen into disarray. Buildings had crumbled away to broken shacks. Shops were boarded up and closed down. Lawns were nothing more than dirt with the occasional yellowed patch of grass.

All in all, the place looked shit.

Sirius raised his fag to his lips, only to find that it had burned out and become ash.

He flicked it away and reached for his pack, finding it nearly empty.

His eyes flit down to the pavement. Scattered around him, were cigarette butts. Smoke still wisped up from a few. He picked up his last fag and crumpled the box, throwing it away.

Cigarette clasped firmly between lips, he reached for his lighter. As he did, a dog barked in the distance and he froze.

Sirius held his breath, eyes turning towards the sound. Roaming over shadows as he flicked his lighter. Inhaling deeply and with a casual grace that belied his rapidly beating heart, he leant against his motorbike and scanned the skies.

Nothing but stars.

Exhaling upwards, he watched as grey smoke morphed with the light breeze.

The image of a smoky Dark Mark flashed through his mind. Blazing heat and terrified screams. Flying spells and the smell of burning flesh.

Sirius took another drag. His throat tight. Gut aching.

He was just anxious. He always was before any mission. After two years, all of this really should have felt like second nature.

Except it didn't.

He'd been fighting for two fucking _years_ now.

Seventeen and fresh out of Hogwarts, he'd been too young for this bollocks. Nineteen wasn't much better.

They'd all been too young. Too damn naive and idealistic. Hopeful, arrogant at best. They'd actually believed the end of the war was within reach. All it'd needed was a few people to reach out and claim it.

Now that he was a little older and a bit wiser, he understood that he hadn't known shit.

Many battles would need to be fought and won before the war came to its inevitable end. At this rate, it was going to get nastier.

Death Eater attacks every other day. Families tortured to death. Imperiused children killing their family members. Giants destroying entire towns. Inferi roaming the countryside, mauling Muggles- it went on and on.

War was so much shit and the glory he'd imagined had been nothing but a pipe dream.

The reality was dueling for your life and accepting the fact that you'd have to kill. It meant death, loss and fear. It was knowing that you weren't in control.

He'd nearly died twice.

_Third times the charm._

His gut squirmed and Sirius took another drag.

It pissed him off that some people still didn't understand that.

Then again, he thought, these were the same morons who believed the Ministry was in control. Considering the day's events however, that idea was downright laughable.

Minister Bagnold had signed off on Crouch's Law, which permitted the use of Unforgivables by Aurors.

It had been a startling sign of the times to some and it had actually caused an uproar. A small number of people thought the new law unnecessary. As the good guys they'd reasoned, there was no need to resort to tactics used by the other side.

He raised his fag to his lips and inhaled. His mind buzzing with the stupidity that was wizarding kind.

Did they not understand that lines had become blurred ages ago?

This new law didn't do fuck all because, contrary to popular belief, Aurors had been using the Unforgivables long before any stupid bit of parchment had been signed.

Could anyone really blame them?

Honestly, what did people expect?

For Aurors to use _Expelliarmus_ when an _Avada Kedavra_ was being fired at their heads?

_Of course_ scared witches and wizards used the Unforgivables.

'Fucking morons,' he murmured, pale eyes scanning the street.

It was ridiculous that it'd taken this long for that particular motion to pass. Frustrating too.

_Damn bureaucratic bullshit._

This, _all of this,_ was the Ministry's fault. Had they acted sooner, none of this would've happened. Voldemort could've been neutralised long before he'd spread his pureblood agenda. Fuck knows there'd been warning signs. Rumours had spread. Disappearances happened. Suspicions had been whispered, doubt had steadily grown.

Eventually, corruption and fear played their part but still, something could have been done. By the time Voldemort had been acknowledged as a true threat, it'd been too late. Now their lives lay in the mercy of a psychopath, hell bent on ruling them all.

It was doubtful that Voldemort could have ever been stopped. Determination had always been a bitch of a driving force but had he been watched, he wouldn't have become this powerful.

Innocent men, women and children died every other day now. All because idiots sitting on silk cushioned seats had been too stupid to act.

Now the man commanded an army of dark creatures and pure blood elitists who didn't think twice about ending a life.

A particular mask with distinctive markings flashed through his mind then. Familiar, grey eyes staring back at him from behind it.

_Run you idiot! Get away from here! GO!_

He clenched his jaw, shutting that train of thought down.

Sirius checked his watch, fifteen minutes to go.

His leg shook and he swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to pace.

Crouch's Law had been physical proof that their government was failing them. As unwelcome as the realisation was, it was also a relief. The unknowing masses couldn't hide from the truth anymore, they all had to face the facts.

Voldemort wasn't going away. The war was going from bad to worse and more needed to be done.

Ignorance was no longer an option.

No one in the Order had been surprised about the law - Dumbledore had warned them. He'd known of it from the beginning, so he hadn't been surprised. One of his many spies had warned him and he in turn had warned them.

Sirius doubted he'd been shocked by the information. It'd probably been nothing more than confirmation to him.

The man was two steps ahead of the game. Always and without question.

Which was troubling, because something had clearly caught him off guard.

In the past two months, he'd appeared to age a decade and they'd seen less of him as of late. The war could've been blamed, but it would've been a lie.

Dumbledore's mood swing had been far too sudden. Too abrupt.

The implication that the powerful wizard had been shaken made Sirius uneasy. That Moody was more paranoid than usual did not help.

He checked his watch again.

Twelve minutes to go. He couldn't wait anymore. Anticipation was doing a number on his gut. With a final drag of his cigarette, he pushed off his motorbike and made his way around the corner towards the mouth of an alley.

He was exhausted. Perhaps Remus was right- a night off wouldn't hurt. This fucking war wasn't going to end anytime soon. Nor would it suffer a devastating blow if he didn't volunteer for every mission.

Logically, he knew that ... but still.

He checked his watch and groaned when he saw the time.

Twelve minutes to midnight.

Sirius swore under his breath as he raised the time piece to his ear, half sure that the bloody thing was defective.

James and he were to be the distraction tonight.

Their mission, to attract the attention of the low ranking idiots stood outside a Death Eater hideout. A clumsy, Omniocular carrying, Phoenix T-shirt wearing James would be discovered nosying around. Alert and ready, he was to dodge and run. Never ones to resist easy prey, Death Eaters would naturally give chase. Prongs would then make his way to the alley where he would be hiding, ready to cover his friend. Together they would reach his motorbike and flee.

Again, Death Eaters would give chase, though more out of anger rather than sport. All the while, hidden Order members would storm inside and raid the place. It was their responsibility to keep the Death Eaters distracted and away from calling back-up. An hour's worth of chasing was requested with the firm order to keep the masked wizards at ground level and to not be seen doing magic. Or so demanded Dorcas the Great Obliviator.

It was an easy plan. Safe as far as Moody had been able to see and in Sirius' professional opinion, bloody fucking dangerous. Experience had taught him that there was no such thing as an easy mission. Plus, he didn't exactly trust Mad-Eye's definition of safe.

The Auror had just lost a chunk of his nose on what the mad bastard had dubbed, one of the easiest missions of his life. He felt justified in doubting the older man's judgment.

This easy mission could just as well be the one that did him in.

His stomach clenched and rolled as bile burned his throat. Sirius doubled over as he lost his dinner.

Spitting, he checked his watch.

_Ten to._

'Fuck's sake,' he growled. The closer it got to twelve, the farther away it seemed.

With a final sweep of the street he made his way towards the middle of the alley where an overflowing bin stood.

Doing his best to ignore the potent stench of rotting and spoiled food, he nudged a nearby box with a boot clad foot. It moved slightly. With a firmer push, the box scraped closer to the bin. It was only then that he spotted a suspicious looking puddle.

Not at all enthusiastic with the fact, he crouched down between the box and the bin and over the puddle.

The combined smell of rotten egg and stale beer assaulted his nose. As the seconds passed and the longer he sat there, Sirius began to taste the unpleasant stench in the back of his throat. He gagged and his eyes watered.

Fighting the urge to be sick again quickly took a backseat when sudden noise alerted him to an audience.

Without a thought he reached for his back pocket.

In the alley entrance, staring at him, were four girls. Three were giggling. One was pointing.

Grey eyes zeroed in on the outstretched hand and his breath hitched as everything slowed to a standstill.

For one heart stopping moment he'd imagined a wand aimed at him.

_Run you idiot! Get away from here! GO!_

... Except there was no wand.

No uttered incantation to end his life. Not this time. Not yet.

He shut his eyes and attempted to steady his rapid and shallow breaths. His pulse pounded in his temples.

Laughter. He heard laughter. Not screaming, cursing or killing.

He opened his eyes and studied his surroundings. Seeing everything and nothing at once.

'Muggles,' he shakingly whispered. 'Just Muggles.'

Cold sweat ran down his body, causing his t-shirt, with its phoenix logo to cling to his torso.

Just four swaying Muggle girls, laughing at the guy crouched by a bin.

How he hated giggly, drunk bitches.

As they eyed each other a bang rang out, startling him much more than he would ever dare admit. Looking upwards, he saw ruby sparks fizzling out.

He needed to get the Muggle girls away from here and quickly.

'Oi!' he shouted, successfully drawing their attention back down to him. 'What you looking at? Never seen a bloke take a shit before? Go on, piss off you perverts!'

More giggles. As they staggered away his eyes remained on them.

Only when they became a vague mass in the distance did his focus return to the darkened alley in which he sat.

He loathed to admit it, but a part of him envied them. Here he was risking life and limb sat over what may-or-may-not-be-piss, and there they were, pissed and laughing. Completely unaware of the danger they had been in. Or that the bloke with the shits may have just saved their lives.

_Taking a shit._

Were he to die, those would be his last words. He was oddly okay with that.

The highly expected, and yet still surprising sound of rapid footsteps caught his attention.

His wand's hold tightened as a wide eyed James came running down the alley at full speed. Occasionally throwing a random spell over his shoulder.

'They've got bloody brooms!' he yelled as he ran past.

In the blink of an eye, his best mate reached the alley entrance, shot a spell in his direction and quickly turned right.

'Shit!'

Jerking to avoid the spell, his back slammed into the wall and his arse fell right on the puddle. A cold and wet sensation crept up his back just as the massive container to his left glowed bright yellow. With a great hearty belch, the bin regurgitated all its contents and rubbish exploded into the night sky. He heard disgruntled yells and only then did he realise how close the black robed wizards really were.

'PADFOOT MOVE!'

He didn't need telling twice.

Sirius ran towards his messy haired friend, dodging spells as he did so.

James wave his wand once more and rubbish flew up and behind him.

As he reached the alley entrance he looked back and saw the two lead Death Eaters collide and fall. The ones behind them struggled to maneuver around the rubbish attacking them.

Sirius skid to a stop, raised his wand and with a hasty swish and flick, the box shot upwards with an innocent _ping._ It hit the closest Death Eater, shattering the broom from under him. With a resounding crack, the wizard fell face first onto the unforgiving pavement and didn't move again.

He ran- they needed to get to his bike.

'You could've fucking warned me!' he growled as he reached his panting friend, now stood next to his motorbike.

In response James grabbed him by the bicep and pulled, causing him to stumble just as a fireball passed his left ear.

Recovering, he reached for the handlebar, threw his leg over the seat and sat down.

The engine revved up and the headlight flickered on. He felt James sit behind him and with a step on the pedal, they were speeding down the street.

Spells rained down on them. Some missing them by a mere foot. Though aimed at him with the intent to injure, even he had to admit that their spell work was embarrassing. Behind him, he could hear James' return fire and by the sound of it, a Death Eater had gone on the defensive. He heard a muffled yell, swiftly followed by the clatter of a fallen broom. James laughed as another Death Eater landed before them, a few feet away from his rapidly approaching motorbike. He felt James move and the bike wobbled.

As they neared the wizard Prongs' magnified voice called out. 'Catch!'

A golden blur flew over his head and the masked wizard reached out a hand to do as he was told.

Seconds away from crashing into him, the Death Eater disappeared in a flash of light.

He shook his head in disbelief as his best mate cheered.

Twenty-three. Fucking unbelievable.

Cutting through alleys, main roads and a rather large park, they drove on. All the while spells flew past them or clashed with James' shield.

Their level of skill was pathetic.

Either these wizards were useless - or they were youngsters fresh out of Hogwarts.

_Run you idi- _he pressed down on the pedal hard. With a burst of speed they shot forward several feet in a matter of seconds.

A streetlight appeared in the distance, signaling a fast approaching intersection. With a slight nudge, the bike turned left. James' shield crackled as several spells hit at once. They flinched, ducking their heads on instinct.

Inexperienced or not, the robed wizards still outnumbered them.

A fireball hit the road and he swerved to avoid the smoking pothole. Several more spells flew past.

There were far too many of them and they were far too close.

He turned right, only to find he had driven onto a cul-de-sac. His eyes searched for an alley, a path, anything to aid their escape. There was nothing but quiet and dark homes, framed by sturdy trees.

Glancing at his watch he swore. They couldn't fly yet. It was still too soon.

He and James were now fast approaching the end of the street. There was nothing for it, they would have to duel. It wouldn't be much of a fight he had to admit, but it was still too public an area. Hopefully no kids slept by the windows. If they were lucky, the trees would take the brunt of the spells.

He stopped the motorbike.

Sweat dripping down his back, adrenaline pumping through his blood and with a pounding heart he got off the bike and waited for the Death Eaters to close in.

Confident in their victory, the masked wizards stopped firing spells and began lowering their height. White, unmarked masks gleamed in the moonlight. Black robes billowed behind them, catching on twigs, leaving a trail of falling greenery in their wake.

With a rush of inspiration Sirius reached for his wand. In one swift move, the two black haired youths raised their wands. With the sound of creaking wood, the trees came alive. One after the other, ancient branches swung down onto the black robed wizards and Death Eaters fell from the sky.

Dazed and groaning, they landed amidst torn branches and innocently falling leaves. He spotted a broken broomstick amongst the debris. A foot away, still holding on to its polished handle, lay a convulsing Death Eater.

James and Sirius jumped back on the bike as three of the Death Eaters started to stir.

'Mate?!' yelled James over the engine's roar, 'You're wet and smell like piss!'

Famous last words. Huffing a laugh, he revved the engine and turned the motorcycle around. With a screech of its tyres and the smell of burning rubber behind them, they once again found themselves racing down the street at full speed.

Around and behind them, lights flickered on. Chances of The Great Obliviator hearing of this increased by the minute.

They sped along through alleys, darkened streets, empty roads and a motorway for what felt like hours. The mission, now long over and forgotten, had given way to an impromptu high speed joy ride.

He didn't know what brooms the Death Eaters had, but he felt a rush of pride at the fact that his motorbike outran them all … as well as Muggle police cars.

He smirked.

As they'd neared the outskirts of London, a police car had appeared out of nowhere and had been chasing them for about twenty minutes now. Its loud siren almost drowning out the bike's engine.

He couldn't see the Death Eaters. The police car's headlights saw to that, but he knew they were there. He could still feel the bastards.

Death Eaters were flying after them and now the bobbies were chasing them as well. He laughed as he took a sharp turn and the car's wheels screeched behind them.

James' exhilarated laugh rang in his ear. 'Go faster!' he yelled. So he did.

The Great Obliviator would _definitely_ be giving them a stern talking to Sirius thought with a barking laugh.

If he survived the night, Statue of Secrecy speeches would be in his near future once again.

Fucking war was exhausting.

Death Eaters, Muggles and the Ministry.

One war, three different fronts.

He really was tired.

He didn't know whether to call Dumbledore's recent personality change another war front or not, but it sure as hell felt like he should.

Something big was happening and he didn't know what. That he was powerless to stop it left him feeling overwhelmed. He really hated not being informed and having information kept from him.

He didn't know what the future held. Didn't even know if there _was_ a future for him to be had. He could just as easily die tonight.

At the moment however, none of that mattered.

Because here and now, with his best friend at his back, racing against death and law, he was invincible.

* * *

Hermione felt invisible whenever Albus Dumbledore looked at her.

His stare was a bit too penetrating and far too knowing. It gave her the sense that he could see everything that made her her. As if she was crystal clear to him. Like he could see right through her.

Perhaps he could. Or maybe, she was just easy to read. It could just as well be a bit of both.

There was no way to keep a secret from him, she was an open book laid out before him. Ready and waiting for his perusal. Every chapter, an important piece of the plot that would tell her story.

It made her feel judged, awkward and uncomfortable in her own skin. It terrified her to think that the longer he looked at her, the more he would come to know. Like he was studying her.

'Have you purposely locked me out Miss Granger?' he asked her yet again.

He'd phrased it differently though. As if switching the words around, or replacing one with another would change anything.

'Hermione...?'

She hadn't. Not intentionally anyway, but she hadn't said as much. So the silence, which may as well have been an admission of guilt, lay heavy between them.

Sat opposite her, he'd maintained his silent watch as she fiddled with her sleeve. She just couldn't bring herself to make eye contact.

Other times, his gaze made her feel guilty. As if he knew all her dirty little secrets. Most likely he did, now that she thought on it.

He never had asked her who she was. How she had come to be here or anything personal.

Yet, upon waking, his first words to her had been 'You are safe now Miss Granger.'

Her head had spun.

From the moment her eyes settled on his wizened face, she'd known exactly what had happened and what it had all meant.

Dumbledore was alive and he was years younger than she ever remembered him being. That alone had spoken volumes.

After a series of rapid fire questions that would've put any game show to shame, she had answers.

She was in nineteen seventy-nine. She had arrived on the seventeenth of January. She was to be kept in the castle and stay in her room. She could not be seen. She could not be heard. The walls had ears, eyes, and mouths after all. Not to worry, he would handle the situation. The Time-Turner was safe. _She_ was safe.

Except she wasn't.

The world had shifted and nobody knew it but her.

'Miss Granger?'

According to Dumbledore, she had appeared at an Order safe house in the middle of a battle, began to scream and had to be Stunned. Because of her odd arrival, at that exact moment no less, Gideon Prewett had delivered her to him. When she had been resuscitated, she'd been unresponsive. He claimed it'd lasted a week.

That small fact replayed in her head.

Her mind had failed her. The one thing she had relied on to save her, turned out to be the one thing to betray her the most.

The Imperius Curse, shock and then her mental breakdown.

Weak. She was _weak._

Hermione hated that she had been reduced to this.

It hadn't escaped her notice that while she had asked question after question, he had not asked her a single one.

The curly haired witch suspected that he already knew everything he needed to know anyway. Legilimency was a highly skilled art and though nothing she learned of the craft stated it could only be performed on an alert mind, she suspected it had been used on her when she had been unreachable.

How else could he have known her name?

She should have felt violated at the fact. Insulted and angry. Disgusted at the complete breach of her privacy.

Yet... she couldn't bring herself to care.

She didn't have enough energy in her to muster up the appropriate amount of indignant rage.

She shifted in her seat and the room spun. Shutting her eyes, she breathed in deeply through her nose.

'Miss Granger, when was the last time you slept?'

When had she slept?

She didn't know. She could easily lie and say last night. But he'd know. He always knew things didn't he? Especially now and especially about her because she was an open book and because she didn't belong. She was a dangerous, non-entity with no right to exist here. So he kept a close watch, and asked her questions that he already knew the answers to.

Fact was, she couldn't sleep. It evaded her. She'd tried, but she may as well not have, for all the good it did.

Hermione had lost count of how many nights she had lay in bed and waited for sleep that would never come.

Instead, she'd find herself staring at the darkened stone above her. Watching as the glow of torchlight danced across the ceiling and gave way to golden morning light. Birds would sing, owls would hoot and the ancient castle hummed with life.

The need to sleep would then give way to her, willing herself to get out of bed. Only to find that in the blink of an eye, another day had passed her by.

After three weeks, her skin had begun to itch with the need to contribute. To research. To do _something._

She wasn't some helpless little girl in a fairy tale. She couldn't sit idly by, locked in a tower waiting to be saved.

After much begging on her part, Dumbledore had offered to let the house-elves supply her with books.

She politely declined his offer.

Instead, she proposed the idea that she be moved to the Room of Requirement. To her surprise, he hadn't known of it. She doubted it would affect the timeline if he became aware of its existence sooner rather than later.

So she was moved. From a hidden room reserved for the current Headmaster's family, under the cover of night, and a powerful Disillusionment charm, they moved silently towards what the house-elves knew as the Come and Go room.

After stepping inside, she found herself in her childhood room. Photographs of her parents, the Weaselys, Dumbledore's Army, of Harry and Ron smiled back at her.

She'd slept and had felt at peace for the first time since waking in nineteen seventy-nine.

Then her research had begun.

Upon her command, book after book on the theory of time travel materialized. Hidden away from the world as she was … it became far too easy to believe that here in her room with a book, that everything was as it should have been. She soon found herself losing track of time.

It also didn't help that here in the Room of Requirement, days and nights blurred together.

She struggled to find a reasonable explanation. Something, anything, which would justify her lack of sleep and take away the saddened look that was surely aimed at her by the great Albus Dumbledore.

Finally, she decided to answer with an honest, 'I don't remember.'

'You cant recall?'

'No.'

'I see,' he said quietly. 'Considering your situation, a lack of sleep is most assuredly understandable.'

Still avoiding his eyes, she nodded.

More silence.

'The house-elves have informed me that you have not been eating or taking proper care of yourself.'

Shame. Embarrassment. Guilt.

Her clothes were stained and sticky, her hair a tangled, oily mess, the fingers of her right hand were a purplish hue from all the ink...

She just hadn't cared at the time. They did not matter, not when she had other, more important things to worry about. Looking after herself seemed too trivial an issue when compared to the overall picture. So yes, she had neglected or forgotten a few things. But she was fine. She was okay. It wasn't a big deal.

'I'm not hungry,' she murmured.

'Hermione-'

'-I found new research!' She got up and made her way towards the cluttered desk. All of a sudden realising how much mess was strewn about. Books, parchment and broken quills littered the floor and seats, the bed, the tables …

When had that happened? When had the room become so messy?

Embarrassed at having Albus Dumbledore see this, she willed the room to tidy itself up. A blink later, stacks of books and parchment sat on her desk. The documents she had been looking for moments before now lay proudly atop a stack of parchment.

Picking them up, she made her way back towards Dumbledore.

'In _Time Unwound _or_ Defining and Explaining the Paradox of Time. _Maybe it was_ Time-Turners: Myth or Fact_? I don't remember.' Shuffling through the parchment she found a page she'd been looking for. 'It was _Magical Theory of Time_. In chapter one hundred and twelve, page nine hundred and seventy-eight it says that under special circumstances, the Ministry of Magic can supply another Time-Turner, but that they need to be told of the severity of the situation first. I know you said that was unwise and I understand, but you know people who would be able to bend the rules Professor. You're Albus Dumbledore. This is another one of those situations.'

He sighed. 'Miss Granger.'

'I know what you're going to say Professor.'

'Hermione-'

'Please sir! Just listen!' she pleaded.

'That's enough.'

Though barely spoken above a whisper, Hermione felt the full impact of those words and shame flooded her. The weight of his disappointment crushed down on her. She finally looked at him.

He looked tired and worn down. As equally overwhelmed and lost as she felt.

'I'm sorry.' _For doing this to you. For everything._

'No my dear,' he said. 'I am the one who is sorry. After everything you have been through, I had asked you to trust me. Without so much as a shred of doubt have you questioned my actions since. Your faith in me means much more than I am able to say Miss Granger and I in return, pay you back in kind with failure.'

'That's not true Professor.'

He raised a hand to silence her. 'It is my dear. Forgive me, but it is. I had seen it then, as clearly as I see it now. You have not been coping well. Under your current circumstances, you are handling the situation well. As well as can be expected at any rate. Better in fact, than would most. That is not to say however, that you are well. Against my better judgment, I still allowed you to remain here.' He moved his arm across the Room of Requirement. 'In perfect solitude. It was to ease your discomfort, I told myself, as you helped research time-travel. Knowing perfectly well that your research would yield no results.'

'I could help!' she argued.

The Headmaster shook his head. 'You cannot help.'

'The books …'

'Are based on educated guesses with facts thrown in to support the authors' theories.'

She stared down at her notes with her cramped writing. At the ancient books scattered around them.

No, she refused to accept that. It was a lie. Shed find something.

She would.

She had to go.

'Magic at this level is far beyond even my scope of knowledge. And I must admit that even if your notes were to provide a small fraction of light on the situation, I would no longer allow you to continue your work. It has overwhelmed you and you have focused on little else since. Researching and taking notes has, forgive me, become an unhealthy obsession.'

She squeezed the parchment held between her hands. Her miniature and messy writing mocked her. No longer desperate to read her notes and share her findings, she placed them on the table between them, written side down. It didn't help.

She had written on the backs of the parchment as well.

'I explained to you, soon after you recovered, the situation at hand. That immediate action would be impossible,' he stated and she nodded.

In her time, she had read enough material on the First Wizarding War to know that the Ministry was infiltrated by spies and cursed individuals. The Department of Mysteries had not been an exception.

One wrong move on his part and her safety would be compromised.

'Though I know of many individuals who could be of some assistance, I feel most secure speaking only to one man in regards to your situation.' Sighing, he removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his crooked nose. 'Reaching him however, has proven to be most difficult.'

He put his glasses back on and pierced her with his all knowing stare.

'It seems that certain Ministry officials have been tagged and are under watch for their and, I'm sure, our safety. Saul Croaker appears to be one of these individuals.'

At the mention of Croaker, Hermione raised her head and stared at her former headmaster.

'I've heard that name before,' she said quietly.

He nodded. 'No doubt you have read of him. He is, as of today, considered the topmost authority on time-travel.'

_Always with his silence or half-truths!_

She shook her head and swallowed a painful lump. 'No. Not from books. The Unspeakable who sent me here ... She mentioned him.'

'All the more reason to speak to him alone,' he said somberly. Silence, and then, 'Miss Granger …'

'What about him?' She asked desperately. 'What's the problem?'

She didn't like interrupting him but she couldn't bear to hear him apologise. Not again. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, settled further back into his seat and crossed his legs.

'His owl post is monitored. His Floo connects directly to the Department of Mysteries and as his personality can be found to be lacking, he has no known friends. A house-elf tends to his home and keeps him well fed. In short, the man has no reason at all to ever leave his home. His sole purpose in life is his work, socialising is the least of priorities. He is in fact known to have as much a friendly disposition as that of Alastor Moody. On the rare occasion he is so inclined towards human contact, he seeks the company of others, not the other way around. Suffice it to say, were I to suddenly fancy a cup of tea with the man, it would be highly suspicious.'

Great, she thought. Her life and by default the fate of the world, lay in the hands of a hermit with a dislike for human contact.

'-taken to having me followed. Just the other day, I became aware that my own movements are highly monitored as well. An older gentleman followed me all throughout Hogsmeade. From Scrivenshafts to Zonko's, he was there. He was soon replaced by a young woman, whom I'd recognized walking these very halls only a year prior. She followed me into a shop. Remained there the length of time I did, bought all that I did, and left seconds only after I myself departed. Why the Dark Lord would be interested in the type of hair care products I use is admittedly, most disturbing.'

She couldn't help it, she smiled. It felt foreign and odd. Like her facial muscles were just now trying a new exercise for the first time.

Something in her face must've shown because his eyes roamed over her face. His stare, contemplative.

She was a book again. She looked away and stared down at her joined hands. Her jagged nails were bitten down to the nub. A few had bled. She didn't remember biting them.

After a prolonged silence, in which she felt the full weight of his calculating gaze, he spoke. 'Needless to say, reaching Professor Croaker had proven to be a most difficult task. More so than at first anticipated. However, after much work on behalf of Alastor and Gideon, he reached out to me. He arrived late last night, and after Veritaserum, many reassurances and vows, he took the Time-Turner with him.'

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, _'What?'_

She was not stupid. Whatever else she may have become, her intelligence was the one thing that had not yet failed her. Hermione had known long before tonight, that her situation was much worse than he was letting on. Far more complicated than she was allowing herself to accept. She had touched the Time-Turner with blood soaked fingers, and the golden trinket had shined silver soon after. It did not take a genius to figure out that that was decidedly not normal. That Dumbledore had become increasingly agitated over these past few weeks only worked to prove the fact. That he had now allowed the Unspeakable to take the powerful object away from Hogwarts spoke of a growing desperation.

Which meant that Dumbledore didn't know what to do.

_She may not be able to go home._

Panic. Sudden and wild ran through her. Overtaking all her senses.

She struggled for breath as her chest tightened. Her vision blurred and her palms began to sweat.

The one thing that could help her was out _there._ Away from Dumbledore. Away from _her._

_Unprotected._

The large room suddenly felt too small.

The walls were closing down on her.

'Miss Granger...?'

The room spun. No. It was shaking.

Trembling. Crumbling. Falling. The walls were going to crush her. She was going to die.

'Hermione?'

The walls were morphing. She was back in the cellar. She couldn't breathe. She needed oxygen!

_Where was the window?!_

A cold rush of air invaded the room.

Rain.

She smelled rain.

She shivered and her skin broke out in gooseflesh.

Somewhere thunder roared and the wind howled. Lightning flashed and the room continued to shake.

Sounds were muddled.

She was trapped and alone again, no, she wasn't alone. Someone was talking.

She looked upwards and found the small rectangular window. The grass, swaying violently in the turbulent wind.

Were they the ones calling her?

She trembled from the cold as she took rapid breaths. A strong, reassuring pressure gripped her shoulders.

_'Hermione!'_

She looked away from the small window in search of the sound and found a pair of blue eyes an arm's length away.

Blue eyes. The Woman.

Hermione fought to break free from the older witch, but her grip was too strong.

A woman was screaming. A deeper voice was yelling. A man. _'Breathe!'_

A mouth. A white beard. A crooked nose.

_Dumbledore._

He was the one shaking her, ordering her to breathe. Terrified eyes drifted over the cellar.

Had Dumbledore rescued her? Was she safe now?

_The Woman!_ Where was she?! Had she gone?

She turned to look over her shoulders, but the elder wizard's hold remained firm.

_'Look at me Hermione!'_ he demanded with a firm shake. 'Eyes on me! Now _breathe.'_

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another.

Sturdy arms encircled her.

Realisation slowly flooding back.

As it did, the cellar disappeared and her room returned.

Lightheaded, Hermione's knees gave away and she crumbled to the stone floor.

At the last second, the room supplied a soft cushion. It never registered. Nor did the fact that the headmaster had joined her on the dirtied floor.

Desperately clinging to Albus Dumbledore, she sobbed against his chest as the powerful wizard held her to him.

She wanted to go home.

When her tears were finally spent, she fell into a restless sleep.

She had been awake three days.


	3. Blood

Thanks again to my wonderful beta _TheUnrealInsomniac_ for taking his time to polish and shine this behemoth of a chapter.

* * *

**Silver**

Blood

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes the next day, she had been moved out of the Room of Requirement.

To say it had been unexpected or that it had caught her off-guard would have been a lie. Having an overdue panic attack in the presence of her former headmaster was bound to leave an impression after all.

Hermione understood his reasoning, accepted it even. She would go as far as admitting that it was the right decision. That didn't mean she had to like it though.

Back in the circular room and away from the safety of wish fulfilling and book supplying walls, Hermione had been forced to think. And the more she thought, the more things were beginning to seem bleak.

No longer in seclusion, voluntary or otherwise, and with no research allowed, Hermione had to reluctantly accept the fact that her situation was spectacularly out of her control. As Dumbledore had told her, answers to magic of that calibre would not have been found in a schoolbook.

Before she knew it, another week had passed. Bringing her time in the past to a total of two months.

It felt longer.

It came as a huge relief eight days later when Dumbledore summoned her to his office.

As she made her way up the secret passage, which connected her room to his study, she could hear two men speaking. One was clearly Dumbledore but the other she didn't know. The Headmaster called him Croaker.

Saul Croaker resembled a walking, talking potato who snored with each inhaled breath.

Thick, salt and pepper eyebrows above small beady eyes, gave him a perpetual glare. His eyebrows were the only bits of hair on his entire head.

He was short and as round as Professor Slughorn had been and as the Headmaster had previously reported, a grouchy bugger.

The way he spoke, it was clear that he was long accustomed to having his orders followed. His tone that of a man used to being right.

To the Headmaster she may have been a book, but underneath all the inquisitive glances, he still saw _her._ When Croaker looked at her, it became obvious that he was seeing an interesting object. A thing. Meant to be studied, poked and prodded. To him, Hermione was a specimen.

She didn't know which irritated her more, that he looked at her that way or that she didn't really blame him.

Five minutes into their meeting, the young witch began to dislike him.

Especially because he kept finding holes in every plan she or Dumbledore proposed.

'In theory,' argued the Unspeakable yet again, 'that is correct. In all actuality, it's a fairy tale made to give a happy ending. In the real world, it is not that simple. One cannot simply travel through time as they please! The idea of time-travel itself is farfetched, but traveling _back_ to the future?! That's completely absurd!'

'There has to be something other than letting time catch up to itself,' she said through gritted teeth.

'In theory, yes. Factually, no. So no Miss Granger, I cannot simply give you another Time-Turner to use. As I have said to you both repeatedly, only a Time-Turner from the present time can be used. I can easily give you another one, but _it. Won't. Work!_ A Time-Turner cannot travel to a place that does not exist. Only a Time-Turner from your time would be able to return you to your correct timeline, otherwise the magic fails and the time piece overheats causing it to melt.'

'What is the metal made of?' asked Dumbledore. 'Gold?'

Croaker nodded. 'That was my question as well. Time-Turners are no longer produced, not for well over a century. Presently, we only study the magic behind them and their effects, not their actual properties. I had to dig into the old archives until I found documents which detailed the actual forging of a Time-Turner. In its planning stages, many metals were tried and tested. Most failed or cancelled out the magic. Eventually, someone figured out that gold was the best conductor for this particular spell. Problem was, they melted soon after.'

'Stronger gold was needed...' Dumbledore's curious gaze settled on the powerful trinket. 'Goblins.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'I thought Goblins only used silver...?'

Croaker shook his head, 'A common misconception.'

'Goblins specialize in silver as it is most susceptible to their magic,' explained the Headmaster. 'However they are first and foremost master metal-charmers Miss Granger. Of all metals not just silver.'

Croaker nodded in agreement as he flipped a few pages, stopping at a diagram of an older and thicker Time-Turner. 'Yes. The goblins were paid for their services and we now had stronger gold. Charms were then added to them-'

'Which spells?'

'Wait a second.' The shorter man flipped ahead, quickly running a stubby finger down each page. When he found what he'd been looking for, he flipped the book over presenting it to Dumbledore. 'An Hour Reversal Charm, a Localized Containment Charm, a Temperature Regulating Spell, Safety and Protection Spells, Spatial Charm and a Flesh Memory Spell. Seven total. Any more than that and the Time-Turner begins to malfunction.'

'So it's Goblin forged gold, charmed with powerful spells, and impregnated with my blood,' she said.

Croaker's bit his bottom lip. 'Yes. There is another factor as well... the Time-Turner that the woman took, that you used, was not for years. It was for months.'

Dumbledore looked as shocked as she was. 'I'm afraid I don't understand Professor.'

_'Months?'_ she asked.

The Unspeakable looked like he'd sucked on a lemon. He opened and shut his mouth several times before he spoke. He clearly didn't want to share whatever it was that he was about to say. 'Several Time-Turners were made. This one, prior to its transformation, was one of several Month Time-Turners.'

'Whenever a new spell is created, more often than not, it becomes a matter of excess. Was that the case Professor?' asked Dumbledore.

The shorter man gave a reluctant nod. 'It was no different when Hour Reversal Charms were discovered. Before a spell becomes patented, we are assigned to judge its safety and test its limits. As you may be able to guess, there was an urgency to find this particular spell's limit. Eventually, an hour became a full day, days turned to weeks. Weeks became months until finally, we held the power of infinite time on our hands. As of today only three kinds of Time-Turners exist. Hours, the only one most of the population know of. Months, which only a handful of individuals are able to access. And years, which only I and the Department Head - and now you two, are aware of.'

Hermione slammed her eyes shut, desperately trying to calm the tension building behind her eyeballs. As interesting as all this was, it was completely pointless.

'What does this have to do with me?' she spat out.

'Everything,' Croaker said. 'It tells me that the magic was completely affected. It also tells me that the Unspeakable did not mean for you to travel this far back in time. She meant to only send you a year and eleven months in the past.'

The headmaster frowned as her mouth fell open, 'To ... 1996?'

Professor Croaker nodded. 'July 1996 to be exact.' He gestured to her with a lazy hand, 'That is if you were still in the month of May when she sent you here.'

She furrowed her brow as she struggled to clear her mind.

_July '96? _What happened in - and then it dawned on her.

The 'start' of the Second Wizarding War. When the Ministry had officially acknowledged Voldemort's return and brought the war out into the open.

'Judging by your stunned silence, I take it the period was of some importance?'

Nodding, she opened her mouth to answer when he made a shushing gesture.

'It does not matter!' he said loudly. 'I shouldn't have asked! My point is, that her intent was not to send you this far back. All signs point to it. You were meant to travel to July 1996 Miss Granger. Had she succeeded ...' Croaker shook his head, once again waving his hands in the air, 'Doesn't matter! That's an entirely different story... It all amounts to this: the Time-Turner failed. And more than once.'

Dumbledore's voice cut through the air, 'How?'

Croaker licked his lips, 'I have a theory.'

The Unspeakable turned to her.

'You turned the hourglass twenty-three times correct?' At her nod, Croaker continued. 'Had the Time-Turner been successful, you would not have travelled to 1979 Miss Granger. If a single turn equalled a year, then you should have travelled to 1975.'

Hermione swallowed a painful lump in her throat. 'I don't understa-'

Dumbledore abruptly interrupted her. '-What year were you born Miss Granger?'

'1979,' she answered nervously. She'd found it a bit ironic that she had travelled to her birth year but with that single question, it suddenly didn't seem so coincidental anymore.

Croaker's eyes lit up. 'I knew it! The Time-Turner brought you back to the year you were born, but no further. That is not part of its magic. _Do you know what this means?_ The Time-Turner actively stopped functioning. A normal time piece would have been unable to do that. It would have sent you to the appropriate time, equal to the exact amount of turns.' The Unspeakable's bright eyes moved over the silver artefact. He was actually flushed and panting. 'Whatever this is,' he breathed. 'It is unlike anything I have ever seen before.'

'Her blood altered all its magical properties,' murmured Dumbledore as he too studied the Time-Turner. Croaker once again nodded.

'Somehow,' continued the Unspeakable. 'It mutated the Time-Turner's magic.'

'How?'

At her question, Croaker visibly deflated. 'I don't know.'

Hermione absentmindedly fiddled with her sleeve, refusing to look up as she asked the question she'd been anxious to ask. 'Could that be why my magic has been so affected?'

The silence that followed was loud to her ears. She felt several pairs of eyes, painted or otherwise, staring at her. Humiliation and embarrassment raged through her, tainting her cheeks a rosy hue.

'Dumbledore did mention ... has your menstruation adjusted back to its regular schedule Miss Granger?'

Her blush deepened, and she felt hot around the collar as her body flushed with heat.

Eyes wide, and completely horrified, she stared at the Unspeakable. 'What does _that_ have to do with anything?' she asked. Her voice a note higher than normal.

'It has often been proven that a witch's menstruation cycle affects her magic and vice versa,' he explained. 'They are quite synonymous with each other. No logical reasoning behind it of course, it just is. By that reasoning, if your menstruation adapted then your magic should have followed.'

If that was the case, then her body had adjusted fine. Her magic on the other hand, hadn't.

She shook her head once, her eyes blurring with tears as frustration at her own body welled up inside of her.

'Then your magic has not been affected. In your situation, a case could be made for an Extreme Emotional Upheaval.'

The young witch tried not to flinch. She really did. _Extreme Emotional Upheaval_ is what Dumbledore believed was affecting her magic too. She'd been rather defensive and a bit too stubborn about it.

There was an unspoken stigma behind losing one's magic. It made you less than a wizard, but a grade above a squib. Definitely, worlds apart from Muggles. The fact that one would permit such a thing to happen was not looked down upon exactly, but it was almost disgraceful. She wished her lack of power didn't matter so much. She felt disgusted at the truth of it, but fact was, her lack of magic bothered her.

She was a witch. Without her magic, she'd lost a vital part of herself. She was desperate to get it back. It was irrational she knew, to think her magic permanently gone.

_But._

What if it was? What if Dumbledore was mistaken and it never came back?

She was in the past. Where Voldemort was alive. With no magic.

Those facts were doing a number on her. Which in turn was inhibiting her ability to perform magic. It was a vicious circle.

Her magic wasn't exactly gone though. It was just ... faulty.

It didn't respond to her like it normally did, rather it came out in minor outbursts akin to accidental magic. It was frustrating.

To test her magic, and due to a lack of an actual alternative, Dumbledore had allowed her the use of the Elder Wand. The moment her hand closed around its handle, her magic had hummed and sang. It had been a heady sensation. With increasing excitement, she had waved the fabled wand ... and nothing happened.

She'd swished, pointed, jabbed and flicked it, reciting spells as she did. She may as well have been brandishing a stick. She knew the wand chose the wizard and all that rot but surely the Elder Wand should have at least given her _something?_

Prior to her arrival in the past, she had learned to master some wandless magic. Now, even with the world's most powerful wand at her disposal, she was unable to so much as make her toothbrush levitate.

She had been too overwhelmed with her situation to focus on much of anything. She had been physically unwell: her body weakened from lack of proper care, her mind far too distracted to say nothing of her emotional state. All these things had excused away her inability to perform magic.

Once inside the Room of Requirement, she'd had no need to perform spells. Now however, the longer she was here, the more she began to heal the more obvious it became that her magic was _wrong._

She nodded to no one in particular to show she understood.

'Is the Time-Turner still functioning?' Dumbledore asked, kindly changing the topic.

'It's possible...' the Unspeakable slowly answered. He shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'Can the effects be reversed somehow?'

Croaker sighed and the sound inexplicably caused her anger, which was so close to the surface these days, to spike. Hermione snapped.

'Do you know anything?' she screeched. Even to her own ears she sounded hysterical.

'Hermione! That is not helping.'

She looked away from the foul little man that didn't know anything. Dumbledore should have let her research. She would have had some answers by now. All that the man had said amounted to nothing. The potato was talking, but he wasn't saying anything. Okay, granted the 1975 thing was new but she didn't care. She just wanted to know if - how - _how_ she could get back to her time. Everything else was pointless.

Croaker wasn't telling her what she wanted to hear. The implication of what that might mean caused the pressure in her chest to tighten.

A comforting hand settled on her shoulder. A body, clad in warm silk robes, brushed against her side and the smell of sweets engulfed her. It was on these things that she focused. They were familiar. Safe.

Dumbledore's voice broke the awkward silence, 'Please Professor, continue.'

She felt the shorter man's eyes on her. Growing ashamed at her outburst by the second, she bit her lip and fought against the tears stinging her eyes. When she looked up again, Croaker was focused on Dumbledore.

'I already tried to clear all the spells, or _clean it_, as we say. It was unsuccessful.'

'What were your conclusions?' asked Dumbledore.

'My conclusions were incomplete as the spells refused to budge. Which means that the spells didn't unwind and so the Time-Turner remained unaffected. It did not work!' Croaker's voice had risen higher and higher with each sentence spoken. She had the sense that the agitated man wasn't so much speaking to them, as he was thinking out loud. 'I have tried everything and yet... nothing. Not a single change occurs. It's obvious that her blood altered _something. _Yet, with the exception of the colour change, there are no other outward appearances... The hard part has been trying to figure out the _how_ and _why._ As of yet, I've been unable to find answers. Which was why I asked to speak to you Miss Granger,' he looked at her. 'With little to no details, I need you to truthfully answer my questions. Preferably with a yes or no. Can you do that?

Slightly frightened at his request and with a pounding heart, she nodded.

'Had you previously been in possession of a Time-Turner?'

A reluctant nod and Croaker blinked. 'Interesting,' he muttered. In a much louder voice. 'When you returned it, did I perform any counter spells on you or it?'

Hermione didn't know how to answer that. Everything had gone through Professor McGonagall. Until today, she had never met the man. Until The Woman, she'd never even heard of him.

For the first time in her life, Hermione realised that her first round with a Time-Turner may have been far more complicated than endless amounts of paperwork as Professor McGonagall had claimed.

_Never trust those who hold the power, to tell the truth Hermione._

'I-I don't know how to answer that,' she blurted out. Images of The Woman fresh in her mind. 'No to the countercharms and no to you performing them. I'd received and returned the Time-Turner through my Head of House. I'd not met you before tonight.'

'Your _Head_ of _House? _How old were you when you used this Time-Turner Miss Granger?' he breathed out.

She hesitated a bit too long it seemed because he began to coax the answer out of her. 'Just a number Miss Granger. It is quite possible that your age at the time, may have become a factor.'

Quietly, barely above a whisper, she answered, 'Thirteen.'

Both wizards froze. And _stared._

The longer their eyes remained on her, the more she began to feel guilty. As if she had done something wrong. An overwhelming need to explain herself came over her.

'I-it was so I could do homework.' It was as she said it, that she realised how utterly stupid it sounded.

It was the truth however, which somehow only managed to make the whole thing worse. She suddenly realised how careless and flippant the whole situation had been.

At _fourteen,_ Hermione had handled an extremely powerful and dangerous object, and had been allowed to run free in a school full of children.

_Why hadn't she questioned it?_

'Were you aware that you were in possession of a Month Time-Turner Miss Granger?'

'No,' she answered. 'I had been given an hour long Time-Turner.'

Brown eyes roamed over her face. 'Interesting,' breathed the Unspeakable. 'I am sorry to inform you Miss Granger, but that is not exactly correct. I found that an alteration was made to its runic equation, which serves both as identification and permits us the ability to adjust the amount allowed to travel. The Time-Turner you used was modified. It had been switched from Months to Hours.'

'Is that a common occurrence?' asked Dumbledore.

The Unspeakable shook his head. 'I am currently the only person able to change the Runes system.'

'How curious,' murmured the Headmaster.

She had to agree. The longer she thought on it, the more she questioned certain actions.

Could it have been an odd coincidence that she had been given a Month Time-Turner the exact year that the suspected mass murderer Sirius Black had escaped?

Hermione began to wonder how deeply Dumbledore's manipulations had gone. And she, who prided herself on her intelligence, had been too blind and trusting to question anything and accept everything. She didn't exactly like being used, but she understood it had been a necessary evil.

The young witch was acutely aware of their continued stares. Croaker's eyes were once again calculating. A hunger for answers evident. Dumbledore's face on the other hand, was completely void of all emotion. His poker face was truly impressive. His eyes betrayed him however, as a man who was blatantly trying to solve a puzzle.

Much like Croaker's in fact but without a mad gleam in them.

Furious at the fact, she met the Unspeakable's eyes with her angry ones until the potato-man blinked and looked away. Small insignificant victory though it was, she was fantastically smug.

Hermione may have been the stupidest person in the room, but she didn't need vast amounts of knowledge to tell that Saul Croaker had abysmal people skills and would be unable to hold eye contact for long.

In the time it took her to bask in her gloriously won battle, Dumbledore had recovered from his curiosity over her answers.

'Is it possible then that the magic was then enhanced by her previous contact?' he asked the shorter wizard, now hunched over the time piece.

Croaker made a humming noise in the back of his throat as he gave some head spasm that may have signified a _maybe._

'A Time-Turner's magic doesn't lay in the metal, but in the sand,' he explained. 'The _sand_ is what holds and activates the Hour Reversal Charm. The Time-Turner itself is nothing more than a fancy bauble and hourglass with flesh memory, containment and spatial charms woven into them. It is possible that her age was an issue, but highly doubtful.'

'Then _why...?'_ She forcefully gestured to the silver object.

'I don't know,' growled the shorter man as he raised his head. Frustration evident in his features. 'Blood Magic demands rituals, runes, potions... Mere contact should not have caused this.'

A flare of annoyance shot through her, 'You're an _Unspeakable!_ How is it possible that you don't know? Don't your lot meddle with everything just to see what would happen?!'

The short man cracked an unpleasant smile.

'Blood Magic is very powerful. Highly unstable and extremely dangerous. For obvious reasons, we avoid it. The effects of blood on a Time-Turner are unknown because no one is stupid enough to try. Tell me Miss Granger, would you have intentionally and willingly used magical blood on a powerful object? _Just to see what would happen?'_

She ... wouldn't. He was right and she absolutely hated that.

Hermione felt foolish and Croaker sniffed.

'Unspeakables may be the mad scientists of the Wizarding world Miss Granger. _Meddling_ with magic, at its most fundamental level, _is_ what we do after all. But not even we are that stupid.'

Dumbledore cleared his throat at that and two pairs of dark eyes settled on him. She felt like a scolded child.

'Is there nothing else you can tell us Professor? Is there any chance you may be mistaken? Any way at all that she may find her way back?'

Croaker's face transformed into a blank canvas at that, void of all emotion as he pondered the Headmaster's questions. Brown eyes, much darker than hers, moved to the Time-Turner once more. The Unspeakable's lips began to move as he mumbled under his breath. Minutes, which felt like a lifetime, passed until finally and without lifting his gaze, Croaker shook his head.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as a stab of pain shoot through her gut. Her knees weakened and she swayed on the spot. Pressure gripped her upper arms, gently settling her into a cushioned seat.

That was it.

Her last hope had been Croaker and not even he had been able to find any answers.

Hermione took deep breaths fighting against the tightness building in her chest, trembling as a tide of emotions threatened to drown her.

Her heart was breaking. She could _feel_ it.

'If that is the case,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'Then we must find you permanent accommodations Hermione.'

Her vision swam and all the air left her lungs. She couldn't react, couldn't focus on anything beyond the words the Headmaster had spoken. Nothing, beyond them, registering anymore.

She was permanently stuck in the past, and now the headmaster wanted to talk about removing her from the school? _Now?!_

No. It was too soon. Everything was happening too fast. She couldn't be moved away from Hogwarts. She had to stay here. Hermione shut her eyes as she licked her lips and shook her head.

'I could be a student,' she said. Not at all caring that she'd sounded completely desperate. Because, quite frankly, she was.

Hermione couldn't leave Hogwarts. She couldn't.

Croaker shook his head, 'You would attract too much interest.'

Hermione eyes flew open and stared hard at the talking potato through tearful eyes. _'From students.'_

'Who write letters home, and inform their guardians of exciting news,' his tone one would use on a child to explain that yes two plus two, did indeed equal four. 'Even Death Eaters are capable of being loving and involved parents Miss Granger. One, if not all, will find it curious and worthy of mention that a young girl was given asylum within the walls of Hogwarts, when no other had been granted it before. No doubt the Dark Lord would find it curious and worthy of investigation.'

She glared at the foul little man. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him, she turned to the Headmaster. 'You could pull strings!'

Dumbledore gave her a curt nod. 'Quite easily in fact.'

'But you won't do it,' she spat.

'It is not that simple Hermione. The Ministry was infiltrated long ago. I do not yet know the extent of it.'

'-It's quite severe,' Croaker helpfully chipped in. 'I myself suspect a fellow colleague. Rookwood.'

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, looking at everything but him. Croaker raised salt and pepper eyebrows, 'Interesting.'

She turned to Dumbledore, 'I could be a Professor, a-an apprentice! I-I could help Hagrid!'

Croaker chuckled as he shook his head, 'Miss Granger, we are at war! Everyone is hyperaware of their surroundings. _Strangers are a threat._ A new Professor or student, who suddenly appeared overnight, would certainly not go unnoticed. And keeping you under the radar is now key.'

Hermione shut her eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose. She felt attacked by the potato and betrayed by the Headmaster. Didn't they understand? She had to stay here. It was the only place she was safe.

'Then what,' she spat, 'will happen to me?'

'You must be Obliviated.'

Brown curls flew through the air as her head whipped around to stare at the unpleasant potato-man. _'What?!'_

Croaker raised an eyebrow. 'Are you aware Miss Granger, of how utterly rude you are?'

Hermione blinked. Had he - Did _he_ just call _her_ ru- _'Sorry?!'_

The potato raised a hand in a placating gesture, 'It's quite alright. No apology needed.'

Her mouth fell open. She could not believe the nerve of him. Before she could say anything, Dumbledore intervened.

'I hardly think that is necessary Professor.'

Croaker clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to the elder wizard. 'You're biased,' he said plainly.

Without a hint of hesitation, the Headmaster gave a slight nod conceding the point. 'That still does not justify such drastic measures.'

'I disagree,' Croaker said conversationally. It was like they were discussing an article from _Transfiguration Today._ 'She is, in no uncertain terms, a liability Dumbledore. You know as well as I, that as long as she remains cognizant of the future, that she will continue to be a threat.'

Dumbledore didn't argue the fact. Nor did she for that matter. They both knew the blunt little man was right.

'She will not be Obliviated,' stated Dumbledore.

The Unspeakable shook his head. 'Are you so _sentimental_ a creature that you would risk the future for a single girl?' he'd said sentimental like you would a curse.

The Headmaster didn't blink, did not so much as move, but his voice grew cold. 'Miss Granger has suffered more than enough Professor. She will not be touched.'

Completely unfazed by Dumbledore's tone, Croaker moved his hand in a flippant gesture. 'Obliviate her and she'll get over it.'

'No,' the Headmaster said firmly.

And for the first time, Croaker became impatient. A hint of anger broke through the Unspeakables words, 'Why not?'

'She has a right to her own memories Professor.'

'She does not exist!' hissed the Unspeakable.

'She is a human being.'

Croaker glared. 'She does not belong!'

At his words, Hermione snapped. _'She_ is right here!'

'-and _that_ is exactly the problem!' spat Croaker.

Hermione glared at the round wizard.

'-You think I wanted _this?'_ she hissed as angry tears threatened to fall. 'How _dare_ you act like I did this on purpose!'

'Sweet Jesus,' growled the Unspeakable as he massaged his temple. 'You poor, _poor_ girl. Traveling to the past and _surviving._ At least you're alive! Did it ever occur to you, you inconsiderate little girl, that the only way this Unspeakable of yours was able to steal the Time-Turner was to _literally_ take it over my dead body?'

Hermione paused. Actually ... she hadn't.

The curly haired witch didn't know the man, but everything she had witnessed told her enough about his character. There was no doubt in her mind that, as unpleasant as he may be, he would not have given in and just handed over the powerful trinket. Everything in her told her that the wizard would - _had_ \- died doing the right thing. And that, if nothing else, demanded her respect.

A pang of shame came over her.

She stared at the short, bald man, as he shook his head sadly. 'To think of all my unfinished work left in the hands of bloody morons... Who'll feed the brains and tickle the planets?' He groaned as he ran a hand down his face. 'The Death Chamber.'

Memories of planets, brains, orbs and purple flames came to mind. An old ache burned through her torso. She thought of falling...

'Is that what the veil room is called?' she asked, completely uncaring of the fact that her question would be very telling.

Croaker turned to her. 'No,' he said slowly, his eyes rapidly scanning her face. 'The veil room is The Veil Room... The Death Chamber is a different room, the contents of which doom and destroy, ruin and suck away at our very life source... It is essentially a black hole. The room is usually locked.'

'I'm sorry... Are you talking about The _Love_ Room?' she asked, equal parts amused and incredulous.

'Yes,' answered the Unspeakable curiously, even as he frowned. 'What's the difference?'

Hermione shook her head, not the least bit shocked at his outlook on love. When Croaker spoke again, his tone was professional and very matter of fact - but much quieter than before.

'I insist that you remove all evidence of her arrival Headmaster. Including her own memories.'

For several minutes, Dumbledore said nothing.

'I understand your concern Professor, and I appreciate your opinion...'

Croaker straightened his back and squared his shoulders as the Headmaster continued to talk. It truly was a sight to see as the round Unspeakable, in all of his five foot something splendour, stood in opposition against the taller frame of the Headmaster's.

It was like watching a kitten as it tried to stop a train.

Croaker didn't stand a chance. He knew it. She knew it. The Headmaster knew it. And yet... he stood tall and proud as he opened his mouth to argue on behalf of the world, for a future he suspected was in danger.

_Saul Croaker had died a hero._

'-What will you do when she can no longer remain passive Dumbledore?' he interrupted the powerful wizard. 'When the deaths pile up and she can no longer sit idly by?'

Dumbledore took his time before answering. 'I can assure you that that will not happen. Hermione understands the risks.'

'-Understanding the risks means nothing when human emotions become involved!' growled Croaker.

'Unspeakable Croaker,' said the older wizard. 'I give you my own personal guarante-'

_'-For God's sake!_ Your guarantee means nothing! Face the truth Dumbledore! _You can't control her any more than I can control you!'_

His words rang across the room, the enormity of them rendered everything mute.

Not a single painting moved, even Fawkes stopped his distracting scratching. All eyes settled on the shorter man. 'Powerful you may be Dumbledore, but that does not give you the right to jeopardize the fate of the world for the life of a girl.'

Dumbledore gave him a curt nod that was more noncommittal than anything else. The Unspeakable's eyes burned with anger as he stared at the Headmaster. After a prolonged silence, he turned to face her. Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest. She really didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

He looked her straight in the eyes.

'In 1899,' he began without preamble, 'an Unspeakable became trapped in the year 1402 for a period of five days. During that time, reports began to come in of Wizards and Muggles alike vanishing from thin air. The most interesting tale of which involved an older woman, a midwife in fact. Imagine her confusion and shock when in the middle of birth, the baby suddenly vanished from within the birth canal, and the father disappeared before her very eyes. To her utter horror, she had to explain to the distraught mother that she had been in the process of giving birth and that that was the reason as to why she was bleeding so profusely between her legs. In the blink of an eye, the young woman had forgotten all about the existence of her husband and refused to believe that she had ever been with child, even as her body continued to bleed. When we finally managed to retrieve Unspeakable Mintumble, we asked her to recount all her actions. Nothing damaging, she claimed. She appeared in the past and hid in the woods soon after. She'd had zero contact ... with the exception of one. She admitted to having spoken to a man she had accidentally come across. She swore she only stopped him to ask the date and that once given, he'd continued on his merry way. Contact between the pair lasted but a minute and yet, twenty-five people were _un-born.'_

Long after he finished, he continued to stare. It made her itch and she shifted from one foot to another. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and she focused on his Department of Mysteries cloak. Its silver crest stood out beautifully against the royal purple.

As she watched, Croaker flicked his wrist and his wand fell to his hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dumbledore stiffen. The Unspeakable paid him no mind as he waved his wand. The books and parchment he brought flew back into his Mokeskin pouch. The Time-Turner however, didn't so much as move. Croaker seemed genuinely surprised and intrigued by this. The Unspeakable shook his head as he made his way towards the Headmaster's desk. He picked up the silver object and started muttering under his breath as he rotated it between his thumb and index finger. The metal caught the fading sunlight perfectly, causing the Time-Turner to shine a beautiful faded yellow. With a final shake of his head, he unceremoniously chucked the powerful object into the furry pouch, which he then dropped on the large desk.

'I'll leave you lot to dispose of that,' he said to no one in particular.

He made his way towards the Headmaster, who was now standing beside the door. As he passed her, he stopped.

'Were I a powerful wizard Miss Granger, I would not permit you to leave this room with your mind intact. As it stands, I know my limits.' The wizard flicked his dark eyes to the imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore before returning to meet her stare. 'I will be Obliviated Miss Granger - Don't look so shocked you silly girl! These are dangerous times and you are from the future. _Of course_ I'll be Obliviated! It's been Dumbledore's plan from the very beginning...'

Her eyes moved to the Headmaster, who didn't even blink at the accusation. When she turned back to the Unspeakable, she found him studying her face.

'I don't know who you are Miss Granger, but you were clearly of some importance. Don't try to deny it,' he hastily added when she made to open her mouth. 'A Time-Turner's flesh memory guarantees that only the designated person can activate it. I cannot begin to fathom under what circumstances I would have allowed you the use of one, a Month Time-Turner no less. Why I hadn't deactivated the flesh memory spell is beyond my level of understanding... Or why you were taken and held within the strongest runic circle only we Unspeakables are known to employ. As you are a Muggle-born, I can-'

Hermione gaped. 'How did you...?'

'-You understood all my Muggle references,' he said with a slight shrug. 'I can only assume that the dark wizard Voldemort has gone between now and 1990. Otherwise, you would have been rounded up and slaughtered long before you knew of Hogwarts or Dumbledore. Yet, here you are. Asking questions about your magic - but that is irrelevant ... All these facts point to the ultimate conclusion that you alone, were somehow important... Having said that Miss Granger, you will do well to remember that you do not belong here. This is not your time. All that you know must come to pass, as it is not your place to alter it. If you do, then unknown dangers posed to the future will increase. Your selfishness would result in unprecedented consequences, and you will have become no better than the Unspeakable who sent you here.'

With a pointed look and a swish of his cloak, Croaker was soon standing beside the headmaster who, with a parting nod, closed the door behind them.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot. Unblinking, unbelieving, struggling to grasp the fact that yes that had just happened. That her nightmare had been made very much a figment of her imagination. She couldn't process it. Everything felt surreal.

A song broke the silence.

A melody so heartbreakingly beautiful, she knew it was her pain turned to song.

She'd heard it once before.

She turned her head in time to see Fawkes' eyes close as he stood perfectly still, it seemed as if the musical notes came from within.

An emotion, so similar to hope and love, spread throughout her body. Courage and strength filled her.

But it wasn't real. It was part of the Phoenix's magic.

The hope was false. The love was a lie. It was all fake.

And she wanted no part of it.

Numb, Hermione grabbed the Mokeskin pouch and slowly made her way back into her room.

* * *

'Are you afraid of dying?'

Sirius cleared his throat at the question. Shifting his arm a bit, secretly hoping that the blonde would finally get the damn message and move. His arm was getting tired. Plus her questions were getting too personal.

Marlene wasn't budging though. Completely at ease as she continued to draw patterns on his bare chest with a dainty finger.

He squirmed a bit more, went as far as shoving her head a bit, but nothing. She wasn't moving and Sirius was beginning to get increasingly annoyed with her games. He took his time answering her damn question.

'There's no real point is there?' he answered. 'If we die, we die. At least I'll go out fighting the good fight.'

'True enough,' she said. 'But that's still not an answer is it?'

He didn't respond. He didn't want to talk about this damn it.

Sirius knew girls liked to talk after shagging but he really didn't fancy a heart to heart right now. Or ever.

Sirius was many things. A man of deep and thought provoking words was definitely not one of them. Especially after sex and particularly not with her. He'd no problem with Marley's need for mindless pillow talk but he was damned if he was going to start sharing his feelings. It was too intimate and to start down that road...

Six years they'd been shagging. In the past two years or so, Marley had begun to drop subtle hints that she wanted more. As this year progressed, her hints had become increasingly obvious. She was clearly on a mission but she was gonna fail.

It was an odd limbo they were maintaining. She wanted more and though he didn't, he didn't want to stop fucking her either. They had been each other's firsts, but he'd not stopped at her. The truth of it was, that the curvy blonde knew exactly what he liked and he didn't want to lose that. At times he felt guilty. On occasion, it made him feel trapped and it completely fucked him off. Like it was doing right now.

'Are you scared of dying alone?' she asked. Her Scottish brogue soft and sweet.

He shifted a bit more.

Bloody witch had to know he wanted her off. Were she anyone else, he would have simply shoved her off and left. He'd done it plenty of times before but Marley had his respect and he refused to treat her like he did the slags.

He couldn't really describe what they were, except that she meant more to him than a random girl but less than a girlfriend like she wanted.

He didn't know when her feelings began but his first brush with death had urged her to really get to know him. In her words, to become a confidant. Someone he could talk to at any hour of the day.

He understood the heavily implied hints and though he'd twigged early on he easily ignored her by playing at being thick.

He enjoyed their hook-ups, she was a laugh and though she had the sharpest tongue of any bird he knew, he still wasn't interested in anything more.

Relationships were not for him. Especially now. His family already suspected he and Marley were more than friends. Darling Bella had been a bit too aware of her the past few battles. There was a possibility that the psycho bitch knew something.

Sirius had made it more than clear that he was only good for the occasional shag. He had neither the patience, time nor did he actually _want_ a girlfriend.

Marley was beginning to forget that.

Sirius moved his arm away from around the blonde's waist as he sat up. Pulling on his boxers and trousers as he stood.

'Sirius?'

He didn't turn to face her. Rather he walked around her room, pretending to be too preoccupied with finding his clothes.

'Yeah?' he reluctantly replied.

'What are you doing?'

_Fleeing._ 'Getting dressed,' he answered as he put his band shirt on. 'I have to get back before the missus begins to worry. She gets jealous.'

He turned his head to smile at the blonde now sitting up in bed, staring at him. The sheet had fallen to her waist, exposing her lily white flesh for his viewing pleasure. Hair mussed, deliciously pale pink nipples hardening as she bit her bottom lip.

Marlene McKinnon was a bloody siren.

He had to leave.

He'd been more than willing to use his hands and mouth to start her up for another round. But then she'd started talking and put a stop to any more fucking.

'You don't have to leave,' she said. Her sexy little accent tempting him much more than he cared to admit. 'You could spend the night. We'll put on a Led Zeppelin record, and I'll ride you to the rhythm of the song playing ... See which one of us lasts longer.'

To complete the very tempting offer, she winked. Which did wonders for that wicked little gleam in her deep blue eyes.

There was a reason why sirens were dangerous.

For lack of an actual reply, he laughed. It sounded forced and fake as hell.

Judging by the look on Marlene's face, she agreed.

The grey eyed wizard ignored the guilt he felt, knowing damn well that what she wanted he couldn't give. Sirius knew he had to stop this before she got hurt but he didn't want to.

He wasn't what she needed. He was all wrong for her and to delude her into believing otherwise was just wrong. He'd never actually told her these things however since he had a tendency of either putting it off or running away.

Sirius knew he wasn't the relationship type. If she believed she could change that, then she was sadly mistaken. He didn't have the courage to actually say it.

'Right then,' he said awkwardly, looping his arm back into its sling and trying desperately to make it seem like he hadn't just rejected her. 'Talk to you later?'

Marlene gave him a stony glare.

'Don't you mean fuck you later?' she spat, her accent much thicker. 'Talk to you later implies actual talking. All we do is shag.'

'Yeah... Well... Fuck you later then!' he said awkwardly.

He quickly made his way out of her flat. Wincing at the fact that he'd actually said fuck you later.

He never claimed to be a genius.

He made his way towards the alley behind Marlene's building.

A casual glance at the surroundings, he reached for his wand, and turned on the spot. He appeared in the middle of a small clearing with the familiar pop of Apparation.

He whipped his wand around making damn sure that no one had followed him. Once certain he was alone, Sirius relaxed as a gentle breeze greeted him.

All around him silk smooth blades of grass swayed and danced. Trees, Conifers and Oak he'd eventually learned, towered over him, forming a canopy of emerald and light green leaves as beams of moonlight escaped them to caress earth.

The smell of tree mould hit him next. Filling his nostrils with the scent of life, centuries old and yet rough with the sharp bite of new life coming from the leaves and grass all around. Cannock Chase was beautiful. He loved it here, it was so calm and so very very alive.

Upon inheriting the property from his Uncle Alphard, he'd instantly appreciated the land. The trees created a natural ceiling that barred his home from view and gave him ultimate privacy. It was part of what had made it perfect for Moony and later, when it became a necessity, Order headquarters.

He started up the walked in path of grass, he used to just Apparate closer to his cabin but the new wards Dumbledore had insisted on left him with an Anti-Apparation ward to walk through from the bottom of the hill. There was an Apparation point within the wards, but you could only Disapparate from it. He might have been the house's owner but the Headmaster's spellwork didn't discriminate. So ... walking.

It wasn't all bad.

Birds sang from up in the surrounding trees, tweeting out little calls to one another while squirrels and other small critters scrambled over the branches.

Every so often the odd rustle of fallen leaves gave away a bigger animal moving around somewhere nearby. Probably just a deer. He'd have been jumpy if he wasn't so used to animals coming near his cabin since he moved in. Not for the first time, he began to suspect that they were attracted to the cabin's magic.

Didn't really matter anyway, the most dangerous creatures in these woods were some lively stags. The Muggles in the nearby villages and towns had kept the animal numbers down and cleared out the real predators decades ago.

A slight breeze ruffled through his hair and Sirius sneered as the smell of animal shit hit him.

He tried his hardest not to breathe in through his nose as he continued his walk deeper into the trees. That was another great thing about his home. Unless you knew exactly where you were going, you'd be sure to get lost. A few Order members had learned that fact the hard way. Some more than once.

James had taken to calling his three house-elves as Sirius' Search and Rescue.

Five minutes later, he reached his cabin.

Shielded by a canopy of green and fading light, beams of moonlight shined around it. All wood and stone, rustic and serene, charming in its simplicity, his home was a relic of a time long gone. As he finally reached the door, it swung open on its own accord, welcoming home its master.

Like most magical dwellings, it was bigger on the inside.

Gone was the single shack, replaced now by a spacious three floor home. Rich hardwood floors beneath his feet, a large sitting room with a grand fireplace to his left, a luxurious dining room to his right, a master staircase directly before him and a flurry of activity all around him.

Sirius didn't bat an eyelash. He turned right, making his way towards the dining room turned operations room. Inside, pouring over paperwork, he found one of the Prewett twins. After two years, he still couldn't tell them apart. He'd feel guilty about it but because they were identical, he felt he was in the clear.

'Alright mate?' he said to the ginger.

An upward glance and a smirk firmly in place, told him which of the two he was dealing with.

Fabian then. Cos Gideon hated his arse.

The stocky wizard laughed, 'Alright, yeah. How are you mate?'

'Underworked, complaining, and bitter. How was your mission?'

The ginger shrugged. 'Not too bad. Could do with a bath, shave and some sleep though.'

Sirius nodded in agreement. The bloke looked like shit. 'I'll have one of the elves set up a room for you.'

'Cheers. Heard about the arm,' he said with a slight nod at the offending appendage.

'Yeah, it's alright,' replied Sirius, wiggling his fingers through the sling's opening. 'It still works, so not that bad. Just numb, a bit weak. Could've been worse.' He said for the hundredth time, still unsure as to who he was trying to convince. Himself or everyone else. 'Caradoc thinks it just needs a bit of exercise.'

Fabian nodded. 'Good. He gave you some exercises then?'

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. 'Yeah. He told me to squeeze something several times a day.'

Fabian laughed. 'What do you do when your hand gets tired?'

'Swap to the other one of course.'

They both roared with laughter. Sirius gestured to the parchment and maps the ginger had been focusing on. 'Anything I can help with?'

Still chuckling, Fabian shook his head. 'Nah mate. Just writing up my report.'

The younger wizard nodded, he'd guessed as much. Bloke had been gone for two months, what else was he supposed to do here? 'Alright. Let me know if you need anything.'

'Cheers.'

Sirius turned to leave, entering the kitchen which was connected to the dining room by a single door. Sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of tea was James.

'Alright?'

'Fabian's back,' said the stag Animagus.

'I know,' said the long haired wizard. 'He and I were discussing my wanking habits just now.'

James didn't look up from his newspaper. 'Once nightly, twice on bank holidays and three times every first day of the month for luck. You're a lefty normally, but don't discriminate.'

Sirius beamed. 'Bless dorm room life eh?'

James raised his cup in mock salute as Sirius left the kitchen. Back in the hall, directly underneath the staircase, he entered the Order's makeshift hospital wing.

Elves scuttled about as Caradoc Dearborn, the Order's resident Healer, sat in his corner desk his quill scratching away, his glasses perilously close to the edge of his long nose.

'Healer Dearborn! How are you sir?'

Said Healer peered at him from over his glasses. 'Busy I'm afraid.' He rose from his chair, 'Do you need help kid? Your arm?'

'No I'm alright,' he reassured the man. Raising and holding said shitty arm to shoulder level for his inspection.

The older man walked towards him with a clinical and steady gaze. 'That is much better ain't it?'

Grabbing hold of his hand, he pressed down on each fingernail, so that all at once his nailbed went white and quickly turned back to pink as blood rushed back into the tips. 'Blood flow is back to normal.' He raised his wand and with the tip, pressed firmly down on the inner hollow of his elbow. 'Do you feel that?'

He nodded. 'Some.'

'Excellent. Now ... fingers spread, close and open your palm five times, then touch each fingertip to your thumb.'

Sirius did as he was ordered.

'Good, good. Any pain? Stiffness? Tingling?'

'Nope,' he answered.

'Excellent. Keep squeezing your sponge ball and increase your exercise. Again, stop when you begin to feel discomfort or weakness.'

'Will do.'

The older wizard removed his glasses nodding. 'What can I help you with Sirius?'

He motioned to the three busy little elves around him. 'I was hoping to steal one of your nurses actually.'

'Well,' the older wizard said gravely. 'I sure as hell can't stop you now can I _Master_ Sirius?'

'Tilny,' Sirius said to the smallest elf, who was cleaning the glass doors to the garden and pond. 'Fix a room for Fabian.'

Caradoc cleared his throat.

'Please?' Sirius added.

With a smile and a pop, the elf disappeared.

He ignored the chuckling from the older wizard and his mutterings of spoiled rich kids with the utmost dignity as he walked towards the study which had become Moody's office.

He felt the residual tingle of an Impervius Charm long before he reached the door. Must be an important meeting going on. He turned back around towards the kitchen, where he found his messy haired best friend shaking his head as he slammed down the newspaper.

'The Prophet's lying again. It's blaming some Irish Muggles for all the shit the Death Eaters are doing.'

'No surprises there,' replied Sirius. 'Bagnold doesn't exactly believe in complete honesty does she? No doubt she's behind it.'

'Stupid fucking bitch is as worthless as the bastard before her!' growled James. 'Giants and Death Eaters destroyed a whole fucking town! And she's blaming _Muggles?'_

Sirius made to respond, but before he could a sparrow patronus flew in through the ceiling. Landing before the pair of them, directed at Prongs, it spoke with Dorcas' voice.

'_Dark Mark over Appleby safe house ... Death Eaters have gone ... House is burning ... Survivors are alive inside...'_

A rush of movement had begun before the Great Obliviator's message had ended as all around him he could hear Order members leaving. His heightened hearing picked up Mad-Eye's clawed foot stomping its way out the door, Dearborn was ordering the house-elves to prepare all necessary salves and potions seconds before he heard their crack of Apparation. Footsteps pounded all throughout the house, from beneath and above him. James too had sprung up and he could be heard yelling for Lily who yelled for Remus to grab hold of the Portkey and all at once the door slammed shut with a sudden finality and his home was deathly quiet.

He wanted to run after them, to help, if only to escape the eerie silence. His heart raced and he itched all over.

But he couldn't. With his arm, he'd only be a nuisance and a liability. Sirius reached for James' discarded newspaper and slowly made his way to the sitting room. His footsteps were loud.

Sitting on his favourite lounge chair, Sirius opened the Prophet and only then did he realise it was three days old. It was a bit worn around the edges from it having been read quite a few times.

Sirius had actively avoided reading the newspaper as he healed. Almost having his arm severed off was apparently a serious injury. The anger he felt after reading about Voldemort's victories gave way to a wish to destroy and a need for revenge, which didn't exactly help.

Outwardly, his arm was fixed. Inside, everything was slowly knitting itself back together. Though his muscles worked fine, his nerves didn't. Not only did he have a weak arm, it was numb from the elbow down. Every now and then the damn thing would begin to spasm. According to the good Healer, he'd been lucky he reacted and Apparated when he did. Otherwise the spell would have successfully severed his arm and proceeded to the rest of his body.

He hadn't been aware of it at the time. Blood pumping, his heart beating wildly in his chest, adrenaline fuelling his system, chaos all around ... he'd only moved to avoid a blinding flash. He'd dodged it, or so he thought. It'd not been until he Apparated and had to be stopped from falling over, did he realize how dizzy he was. It wasn't until Peter pointed out the blood, that he became aware that he'd been hit. Days later, only when Caradoc told him that his arm had dangled from a single thread of muscle had he even realised anything had happened.

According to Remus, Dearborn, as brilliant a Healer as he was, hadn't been able to stop the bleeding or heal the wound. Evans, of all people, had been the only one to know the counter-curse. When James had asked her how she'd known, a shaking and wild eyed Evans had mumbled something about potions and a book over and over again.

Honestly, he hadn't cared how the fuck she knew. Sirius had just been glad that she had. To show for it, he now had a thick, vicious looking scar inches above his left elbow and a weak and numb arm, with a month long holiday. He may hate it but he preferred rest over death.

So he'd avoided the newspapers. Which was understandable in his opinion as he eyed the bold headline _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Most Loyal Follower Leads Attack On Muggle Town!_

Bella's face was smiling back at him.

Taken in the middle of a battle, which could easily be called a massacre, spells flew behind her. Her hair blowing in the wind and eyes bright, she threw her head back in what was obviously laughter. The photographer had caught her unaware and the poor kid, going by his scuffed trainers, whoever he was stumbled over a bin and fell. Bella turned and a look of undisguised joy came over her features as she stalked towards him, raising her wand. The image then began again.

Sirius felt something heavy in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't shocked at seeing her unmasked. Bellatrix had never been one to hide her beliefs, nor was he shocked at her blatant refusal to wear a Death Eater mask. It was bold and careless. Perfectly her.

He'd stopped looking at her and focused on the black robed figures behind her, running in and out of the photograph. Wondering if _he_ was there.

Sirius threw down the newspaper, ignoring the mental image of a grumpy eight year old stomping his foot. He already had a photo upstairs, a mental one was too much.

He needed to get out of here.

Sirius made his way to the back of the cabin, ignoring the beauty of his pond, uncaring of the doe that watched him from behind a thick bush.

He walked towards a lonely shed and pulled open its door. Inside was the missus. Roxanne. The only woman he would ever need.

All chrome and matte black, she was freedom personified.

With no real destination, he mounted her and flew through the trees thinking of nothing, yet feeling everything.

As he reached the closest town, he touched ground. Without conscious thought and before he knew it, he'd found himself outside his favourite pub.

He felt the corners of his lips begin to curve and just like that, tension was replaced by growing amusement as he entered The Rooster in the Mule, an aptly named gay pub.

After two years, the locals knew him, so he was usually left to his own devices. Every so often however, a drunken idiot would try and tempt him with a trip to the loo or offer him a ride home. He'd been called a cock-tease a few times. It was amusing, annoying and slightly flattering.

He wished he knew why they kept coming on to him. It wasn't like he was actively flirting, sending mixed signals or leading them on or anything. Honestly, it confused him a bit.

Sirius pulled open the door, thoroughly enjoying the scent of beer that met him. Stepping into the pub, his eyes scanned the bar in search of a tall, black haired youth.

Sirius smiled and raised his good hand, wiggling his fingers at the glaring barman. In his campiest voice he yelled, 'Hey girlfriend!'

The pub's occupants all turned to look at him but he paid them no mind as he purposefully walked to the bar.

The young barman's scowl intensified with each of Sirius' steps.

Stood face to face, with only the bar between them, Sirius ran his eyes over the bloke, beaming.

'Oh my God hon,' he said with an exaggerated wink. 'You look absolutely fabulous today!'

In response, the barman pulled up a glass and put it down forcefully.

'The usual?' asked the bloke through gritted teeth.

Sirius' shoulders drooped and he lost the smile not appreciating the tone. Rude arsehole was clearly in a mood today. In need of cheering up definitely.

'A pint of Carlsberg yeah. Fish an-' he snapped his fingers. 'No. No!' He exclaimed, 'No fish! Know what I'm in the mood for mate? A big, fat sausage ... shoved in between two buns!'

Snickers rang out behind him, the barman simply glared.

Sirius squinted back at him. 'Are you _always_ a grouchy bugger?'

The barman didn't bat an eye as he handed over his drink, 'Please stop flirting with me.'

More tittering from around them. He paid it no mind, watching the barman as he necked his pint.

'Do you enjoy seeing me swallow?' he asked holding out his glass. 'Same again.'

Again his pint was filled and slammed down harder than necessary.

He simply smiled, winking at the bloke when he presented him his sausage sandwich.

Before he turned away called by another patron, the barman's lips twitched.

Sirius mirrored it. The bloke loved him, truly.

He ate and drank, enjoying his meal. It was as he lit a fag, that he noticed a brunette looking at him from across the room.

Eventually, egged on by her mates no doubt, she slid up to him.

She reached for his packet of fags, pulled one out and held it between two slender fingers clearly waiting for a light. A glance later, he sighed.

The dozy cow stuck out her bottom lip, fluttering her eyelashes as she did. He didn't know if she was trying to seduce him or having a seizure.

Alright. Whatever. He'd play along.

He lit her damn cigarette. While she inhaled, Sirius finished off his pint. Half-choking on it, when he looked at her stupid face over the rim of his glass.

He hoped for her sake that she didn't lose her looks any time soon, otherwise the bitch was fucked.

He put his glass down and called for another.

Beside him, the girl simpered. 'I'll take a glass of Merlot if you're offering.'

He hadn't been but whatever.

'And a medium glass of Merlot as well mate,' he said to the barman. When their drinks finally sat before them, he turned to really look at the girl.

Light skin, brown eyes, brown hair, red lips and red nails. Stick thin. Small tits.

Her only redeeming quality were her Cupid's bow lips. They were the kind that practically begged to be wrapped around a dick.

He smiled at her, suddenly realising how interesting she was. 'What's your name beautiful?'

The stupid bitch's smile widened. 'Catherine,' she simpered. 'You can call me Katie though.'

He was extremely honoured.

'Yours?' she asked seconds before her dick-sucking lips puckered into a perfect little o, and met her glass. It'd been fascinating.

A moment's hesitation and then, 'Albus.'

He felt like an Albus today.

'Albus?' she repeated, scrunching up her nose as she said it. 'You don't look like an Albus.'

He had to agree, but he was determined to avoid the whole I'm-Sirius-You're-serious-about-what? mess.

Wordplay on his name had been funny, years ago, when he'd been younger and in Hogwarts. Now, it was just stupid and frustrating. The Wizarding community had a tendency of knowing about him through his family and surname, so they usually knew or had a vague idea as to what his name meant.

Muggle birds on the other hand, didn't. Sirius/serious puns usually ensued. Eventually he began to use other names just to avoid idiotic jokes that were supposed to be original and clever instead of irritating.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd pulled using his real name.

He nodded once, slowly stretching out his smile. 'I agree. I've been told I look like a Charles.'

Stupid bird enthusiastically nodded. 'Oh my God!' She laughed. 'You really do!'

He forced out a chuckle before taking a drink.

'So Albus... What brings you to the Rooster in the Mule?' She leaned in close, smirking. 'Not trying to pull are you?

He really did laugh at that. 'No,' he answered, still laughing. 'Why can't a bloke walk into a gay pub and order himself a drink without having his sexuality questioned?'

'Because it's rarely heard of,' she answered with a slight shrug.

Kitty licked her lips. Her lips really were quite impressive. If she hadn't worn so much lipstick, he'd have seen how soft they were. Instead, they looked slimy and sticky and completely fucking unappealing.

They'd just be wrapped around his dick then.

He turned his whole body in her direction. 'Are you wondering if I'm gay then?'

'No. Cos I know you're not.'

'Oh?' He said genuinely intrigued. 'How come?'

'Cos you keep staring at my lips.'

He smiled at that, winking at her as a blush bloomed in her cheeks.

Merlin she was too easy.

'So whereabouts you from?' he asked, only half listening to her answer. Not truly caring.

'Oxfordshire.'

Sirius made a vague nodding gesture.

'I've been there once. Only in passing, but it'd been a lovely area from what I could tell.'

'It is yeah. Drove through the area did you?' she asked, leaning into him so her knees were on either side of his.

Sirius nodded, he himself moving a bit closer as well. 'I was yeah. Grandfather had just passed and as the oldest son, I had to be in London for the reading of his will. So Roxanne and I drove past.'

Kelly stopped mid drink, '-Roxanne?'

Sirius smiled, 'My motorbike.'

Brown eyes widened. 'You've got a motorbike?!'

He laughed at her predictability, raising his glass and taking a drink. 'Aye,' he answered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'Roxanne. I'll take you for a ride if you'd like?'

Shockingly, the bird sang along to his tune.

'I think that sounds like a possibility,' she answered slowly, in what was supposed to be a sexy way. 'I do love straddling things and being taken for a ride.'

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows were raised. Stormy eyes grew wide with mock surprise. A measured smile spread across his face. He lowered his voice as he leaned closer.

'What exactly do you like riding love?'

Kaylee bit her bottom lip, tucking hair behind her ear as her eyes looked down.

After a moment, dark brown eyes sought out his own.

'Wouldn't you like to know?' she asked flashing him a coy smile. Two front teeth stained red.

'I really would.'

'Wellll,' she said as she scratched a fingernail on the inside of his wrist, 'if you play your cards right, you may just find out.'

Sirius shook his head, chuckling before necking the rest of his pint. He had a feeling that even if he didn't, she would've given it up anyway. Birds loved a bad boy after all.

He smiled before signalling the barman for another drink.

He'd need to be drunk if he was going to deal with her attempts at seduction.

An hour later found Sirius in an alley pressed against a brick wall, the taste of wine and lipstick in his mouth as Karen kneeled before him.

Her hot mouth closed around his rigid length. Brown hair bouncing in tandem with her bobbing head. Bright red nails and lips standing out amongst all her pale and lovely features.

This is why he and Marley wouldn't work out. Because while she was brilliant, he loved the hunt, the chase and the spoils too damn much.

Marlene McKinnon was no longer a part of that. She was a temptation that his body reacted to but were it not for the softness and wet heat her body offered, he doubted she could keep him interested in the long run.

Marley was a siren but what he wanted, he thought drunkenly, was a- a fucking Valkyrie - _fuck!_

Pale eyes slammed shut and his head fell against the brick wall behind him. He grabbed a fistful of hair as he began to thrust into her mouth.

He didn't last long, nor had he tried to stop his orgasm. It had been what he'd wanted after all.

There was also the small fact that he'd wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

A few sucks in, it had become obvious that she didn't know what the fuck she was doing. She hadn't been great but hey, he'd had his dick sucked. So really, he couldn't complain too much.

He pulled out his fags and lighter. Enjoying the taste of tobacco in his post-orgasmic bliss.

Noises in his immediate left brought him back to the present. Fag clasped firmly in place, he pulled up his trousers and worked on his zip and belt as Kim coughed and gagged.

Honestly. So he'd cum in her mouth? Big fucking deal. She should take it as a damn compliment.

'You fucking bastard!' she spat as she in fact, continued to spit.

Sirius frowned. Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, he had zero patience for her.

He cleared his throat. 'Listen... Kerry.'

Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open. 'Kerry?' she sputtered. '_KERRY?!'_

_Shit._ 'Kandy...?'

An angry flush appeared on her cheeks. So perhaps not Kandy either. Fuck it. Endearments then.

'Look Puddle Duck...'

Sirius inhaled as she began to yell and curse him where he stood, which was the last thing he'd allow the slag to do. Exhaling, he turned and walked to spot he'd parked Roxanne.

The slag followed him, cursing and calling him names all throughout.

He wasn't too bothered though, come morning the drunk bitch would have probably forgot she'd given some random bloke head. Sirius was forgetting her altogether as he reached his parked bike.

She'd done exactly what he'd needed and now he was done with her.

'Next time love, maybe drink less and swallow more,' Sirius snarked at the drunken girl.

He didn't wait for her to spout out more drunken insults and with a push on the pedal his bike roared into life.

Sirius went off down a road he still hadn't learnt the name of but he knew there was an old Muggle pub on his right and a post office on his left as he turned right towards where the Muggle cinema was.

His head felt fuzzy and the sharp blast of cold March air was just the thing he needed to give his head a good clearing.

Sirius weaved an easy route through the streets until pubs and restaurants gave out to the fields and grasslands that let him know he was heading towards Cannock Chase and home.

Sirius considered lifting off the road once he passed another bloody church, Merlin did these Muggles love their gothic churches, his slightly sobering brain managed to remind him that there were still terraced houses to get past. And if he did use the bike's magic he'd probably get his arse in more trouble with the Great Obliviator again. He was finally feeling a little better tonight and he didn't need that bollocks.

_Bossy bitch,_ he thought fondly.

So he waited, passing a grand building that was used as a rather imposing looking bed and breakfast.

The streetlights were framing the hill that took him out of the houses' view and once he'd reached the top of the hill and was crossing over train tracks, he pulled off the tarmac and used the surrounding trees to hide his climb into the sky. The starry night illuminating his path much more effectively than the Muggle electrics ever could.

A twitch of his hand and the light switched off. He rose higher, into the space well above the trees but that was not yet open sky.

The moon, not yet full, was bright. Stationary stars twinkled through unmoving clouds above him, swaying trees and life below him. He felt weightless.

When he passed Dumbledore's wards, he flicked the headlight back on and instinctively lowered his height. Guided by the pull of home, he silenced the motorbike as he dodged and weaved through the trees. From the darkness his cabin appeared, lit by a single torch he parked Roxanne and made his way inside. Ignoring the silence he climbed the two flights of stairs until he reached the top floor, the whole of it his and his alone.

Uncle Alphard, while one of the few 'good' Blacks was still a Black. Opulence, he had to grudgingly admit, was rampant in his bloodline. The giant bed looked welcoming, the spring breeze coming in through the balcony was heavenly and he wished for nothing more but to fall asleep and surrender to blissful oblivion. But he couldn't. Sleep was a luxury. As it was, insomnia was a nightly companion. Which only grew in strength when he wasn't clean.

He stripped off his clothes as he crossed the room, towards the loo. A cool bath in mind. The moment he entered it, the torches lit up and he saw himself reflected in the mirror.

His naked chest was littered with still healing and fading bruises. Evidence of spells hitting their mark.

He couldn't see them but he knew faded scars riddled his back. The outcome of moonlit strolls and foolish adventures from his youth, back when he'd been convinced of his own immortality. Grey eyes settled on his left arm and newest scar.

A person can survive severed limbs, but not the blood loss.

An artery had been nicked, and with everything that had been going on, medical care had not been fast enough.

There had been a moment where he'd faded away. He'd heard noises and frantic voices and though they were distant, those last seconds of awareness had been enough for him to accept his death.

He stared at his face.

His mouth was stained bright red.

He shouldn't have panicked, it was just smeared lipstick.

He aggressively ran the back of his hand against his mouth. Violently rubbing, desperate to wipe off all the red.

In his desperation, Sirius stumbled into the door behind him. Wide eyed and frantic he whirled around, wand raised and ready to defend or attack.

He fell against his wall and slid down. Breathing heavily, sweat running down his body, Sirius struggled to breathe. Minutes, or perhaps several hours later, his focus was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of a patronus.

'_Appleby safe house has burned down ..._' said the silvery wolf, '_There were no survivors ... We're okay ..._'

His chest loosened as he took deep breaths and his shoulders relaxed.

Only then did he become aware of how tense he'd been. Of his sweating palms, shallow breathing and shaking body.

'We're okay,' he whispered.

_We're okay._


	4. Unstable

Thanks for the beta work Dave. I appreciate your awesome skills and Drill Sergeant ways.

* * *

**Silver**

Unstable

* * *

The sky was cloudy grey when the morning sun peaked over the horizon. The smell of morning dew, the bittersweet odour of rotting wood and wet moss overwhelmed his senses. Around him, birds began to chirp in the new day.

An agonized scream exploded in the distance. The birds quickly silenced.

Sirius ran faster. Behind him, James was yelling as another scream, inhuman and wild, rang out.

With a skid Sirius turned back around and shot to his right, dodging low branches as he charged towards the sound. Panting, he burst through a series of bushes and landed in a small clearing.

Laying atop the mossy grass, struggling to get up was a werewolf. Gasping and whimpering, it growled when it laid eyes on him. Canines bared, ears pulled back, hair on end as it attempted to stalk towards him, his movement however was brought to an abrupt and painful end when it's back broke with an echoing _crack!_

The werewolf cried pitifully, even as suspicious amber eyes remained on him. Another strangled howl escaped Moony's muzzle, this time more human than animal which didn't exactly help the situation. Pops, which made him cringe and ache with sympathy, rang out as elbows and knees broke, dislocated and readjusted themselves into their proper positions. As he watched, bones shortened or elongated, ears and nose drew back to their original forms. Long nails and tail shrunk and disappeared back into the body as dark fur slowly receded into skin.

Even years later it was truly difficult to watch. There really was something deeply unsettling about something foreign sinking into skin.

Remus' transformations felt like seven lifetimes as opposed to their usual seven minutes.

When more flushed skin began to appear, Sirius felt safe enough to approach his injured best mate. Padding towards the shaking form he smelt sweat, blood, tears and the pungent smell of urine. As he moved, he began to transform. Identical to the change Remus had just gone through, albeit painless and willing.

Sirius kneeled next to his hurt friend, as he did the world shifted from grey to colour and his paws gave way to hands and feet.

Amber eyes opened, and Remus made to open his mouth. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his teeth and gums stained bright red. He tried to speak, but only succeeded in choking.

Sirius quickly shook his head. 'No one,' he rushed out, already knowing what would've been asked.

_Did I bite anyone?_

Somewhere in the background James was still calling out. He didn't respond, he was far too preoccupied with studying the naked flesh of his friend.

No deep cuts, no misshapen bones or odd angles. Sirius ran his hand down Remus' sweaty and heated back, all aligned. Gently, he ran both hands around the werewolf's neck, prodding and searching for any sign of a break or misaligned bone.

_'Over here!'_ he bellowed reaching for his back pocket.

Without much thought, a silver dog burst out of his wand and flew to his left. He quickly dropped it and very slowly, made to turn a feverish and trembling Remus on his back.

Rustling leaves and approaching yells told him James and Caradoc were well on their way. No sooner than he finished positioning Remus, was a stretcher conjured underneath his body.

Dearborn appeared a second later, falling to his knees and whipping out his wand, running it over his best mate in a flurry of spells. The dog Animagus moved to give him room as the potion vials were unstopped.

'Remus! Drink this! _Drink!'_

A pale, injured hand with bloody fingernails stirred and just as quickly dropped.

Caradoc wasn't one to allow it though and lifted Remus' head by the nape. The werewolf opened unfocused eyes and with no conscious thought or awareness, managed to sip some of the potion pressed against his lips.

He felt James rather than saw him shifting from one foot to another.

'Any-' began James before Sirius cut him off with a shake of his head.

Stormy eyes focused on the Healer's wand watching as flashes of colour, diagnostic spells, ran all over Remus' body telling him fuck all.

The older wizard stood, sweat on his brow. 'Nothing life threatening and everything is back in its place,' he panted.

James nodded and with a flick of his wand, conjured a sheet just as Remus and his stretcher began to levitate.

Nothing else was said. Caradoc ran ahead of them with Remus at his side and James followed three steps behind. Picking up his wand, he ran after them. When he reached his cabin, it was the sight of a convulsing Remus that met him. Caradoc's wand once again running over Moony's unconscious body.

The seizure didn't last long, they never did, but the fear and stress that came with them did nothing to soothe his rattled nerves. Transforming into a werewolf was a bitch of a process. One that people failed to really understand. Unless they had to deal with it personally, or they'd witnessed someone change, no one could truly know how fucked up the whole thing was.

Sirius cringed. He'd been one of those ignorant pricks once. As a teenager, he had actually looked forward to the full moon. Imagining endless hours of mischief, not once stopping to think of the shit Remus would have to go through.

In his pitiful defence, the Marauders had never witnessed Remus transform. That had always taken place inside the Shrieking Shack, so they had never seen it happen first-hand. It wasn't until he'd moved into this cabin and gave Moony free reign, that he'd seen it. Whatever he'd imagined up to that point had quickly given way to the fucked up reality.

There was a reason why werewolves didn't live long lives.

Several minutes later, Caradoc straightened and turned to them. 'Nothing unusual. Overall, one of his better transformations.'

Sirius stared at the now sleeping werewolf. Brown hair matted with blood and mud, dark circles under his eyes, pale skin dotted with vicious looking bruises from where his joints broke and reattached, blue lips stained with dried blood, fingernails crusted with blood... the injuries went on and on. Dearborn was right though, this had been a smooth change.

'I'll call you when he wakes up.'

A door opened behind him, just as Caradoc began to roll up his sleeves. His three nurses trailing in, buckets and cloths in hand as they made their way to Remus' bedside.

'I'm going to go Floo call Mrs. Lupin,' murmured James as he made his way out of their little makeshift ward.

Sirius made to follow but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

'Drink this Sirius.'

He turned and the Healer was holding out a potion to him. The younger wizard eyed the bottle, 'What's that for?'

'Your arm.'

Sirius shook his head. 'I don't need it.'

'Then why are you pale and clutching at it?'

Surprised, he looked down and found his hand directly over the scar. 'Huh...' said Sirius with eyebrows raised. 'Well look at that.'

As if the moment of acknowledgement caused it, he was acutely aware of a painful throb radiating up and down his arm. He eyed the thin wizard before him.

'Sir, my arm hurts,' he said unnecessarily.

The older wizard huffed a laugh as he shook his head, 'No shit.'

Ignoring the rude commentary, Sirius reached for the potion and downed it. It was disgusting as hell and it burned on its way down. The throbbing began to steadily fade, replaced by a soothing warmth.

'I'll look after him,' reassured the Healer.

The Marauder blinked, startled at the quiet tone. With slight surprise, he realised he'd been staring at the elves as they began to clean his injured friend.

He knew Remus would be well looked after. Caradoc was a hell of a Healer. Sirius could name with a single hand, people whom he trusted with his life. The tall wizard with greying hair and glasses too big for his thin face was one of them.

_I know_ he wanted to say, but it would've been too sentimental a moment for a straight bloke.

Nodding he turned and left the ward. He needed a smoke.

It was as he walked out, that Hope's panicked voice reached him.

'...ith him?'

'Yeah,' answered James. 'Sirius and I were. It was a straightforward change. He's resting now but I'll make sure he Floo calls first thing in the mor...'

He hadn't meant to slam the door, but it happened anyway. He was far too angry, too frustrated, too - he didn't know what. He had too many emotions running through him that describing each one was impossible. Whatever they were didn't mean or change shit because in the end, feelings were fucking pointless.

It was as he lit a fag that the door opened and shut behind him. Even with his back to him, he knew exactly who it was. Who else would it be?

'Are you done acting like a little bitch or should I come back later?'

Sirius turned to glare at his messy haired friend. 'Piss off James.'

'Mind your fucking tone Sirius,' warned Prongs. 'I'm not in the mood for your shit.'

The long haired wizard stalked towards the other, pointing at the cabin. 'That's fucking wrong and you know it!'

Hazel eyes became slits. 'Back off arsehole.'

'Stop fucking lying to her!'

'-Back off Sirius.'

'Stop ly...'

_'-I said back off!'_ yelled James as he shoved him away.

Sirius stumbled, nearly falling but it didn't change a thing. 'Stop telling her we're with him! She deserves to know the truth!'

'So she can worry?!'

_'So she can help him!'_

With heaving chests, the two best friends glared at each other. Neither one backing down, each believing he was right.

'We promised Remus.'

And that's what it came down to in the end wasn't it?

In a moment of desperation and weakness, they'd promised the werewolf that they would lie to his parents. As far as Lyall and Hope Lupin were concerned, Moony was never without a companion during his transformations. He was looked after by his Animagus friends, who made damn sure to keep him safe.

Except they weren't and he wasn't.

Remus was alone on full moons because Moony had grown to mistrust any and all creatures, especially those who resembled wolves. It hadn't always been that way. As a young werewolf, Moony had been cautious at first but quickly adapted to the stag, rat and dog.

And then they weren't in school anymore, but thrust head first into a war that they couldn't afford to lose.

People want to talk about choices, but fact was they didn't have one. Life under a Dark Lord's rule was not an option and each contributed where they could. For Remus, his place had been an obvious one. Within months of leaving school, he'd been sent off to try and gather werewolf allies. He'd been gone less than six months when it became clear that the pack's loyalties wouldn't change. Voldemort promised a better life. In their minds, Remus, who'd clearly been loved and had been accepted by humans, wasn't one of them. Because of it, the other werewolves had been less than willing to listen.

While outwardly tolerant, the pack's true feelings showed at full moon. When their wolves took over. Moony, when not faced with a human was an otherwise docile werewolf, found himself repeatedly attacked. A young werewolf not accustomed to other wolves, against an angry pack couldn't and didn't stand a chance. By the time Dumbledore recognised defeat and called him back, the damage had been done.

After two transformations, it was obvious that Moony had stopped trusting his former companions. Wormtail and Prongs had become potential meals. Padfoot had become a threat. Moony was dangerous, almost feral, and keeping him company was no longer an option.

After a really bad transformation Remus had sworn the Marauders to keep his injuries quiet from his parents, no matter how bad.

And so, James lied. Sirius didn't agree. Peter was just scared. And Remus... the transformations were beginning to have their toll.

Sirius shook his head, completely furious at the truth of James' words. An inhale of his cigarette and a backwards step gave him room and time to think.

'It wasn't fair of him to swear us to that. Hope needs to know the damage it's doing on him.'

Prongs nodded at his fag. 'I know. But he's one of our best mates and it's for his mum.'

The dog Animagus threw his pack of smokes at him. 'What'd she say?'

'The usual,' said James as he lit his cigarette. The tip burning a fiery orange-red with a deep inhale.

Sirius grinned as the stag Animagus shut his eyes in utter ecstasy. 'Pussy.'

James didn't reply, just took another drag and continued to enjoy his moment of tobacco fuelled bliss.

Sirius took a drag himself, staring at the woods around him. The sight never failed to amaze him. It always made him feel as if he was the last man on Earth. It was both an eerie and soothing thought.

Neither spoke, each too trapped in their thoughts. Even if they did talk, it would've been a conversation about war and death and Order missions and gossip. The whole of their lives was centred on this war. Naturally, there was rarely anything else to talk about. Which was difficult in itself as Order members weren't allowed to speak of their individual missions.

War was so much shit.

'Lily is in Teignmouth for a Muggle wedding.'

'If you start crying cos you miss her I'll fucking deck you.'

James gave him a dirty look and Sirius grinned. 'Before she left, she told me about what happened with Marley. She asked me to talk to you.'

_Shit._

'What'd you tell her?' he cautiously asked.

'Told her I would. So this is me talking to you. If your shit relationship starts affecting Lily and me, _again,_ I'll fucking curse you worse than before.'

Sirius flinched remembering the painful boils that grew in size with all counter spells and healing potions.

'Tell Lily to mind her own.'

'I have,' hissed his messy haired friend. 'We fucking end up arguing cos of it. _Marley is my friend! If someone was hurting the Marauders you'd be angry too! Just because it's Sirius doesn't excuse it!_ I finally manage to convince her that you're both fucking adults and can fix yourselves if you so choose, she drops it and life moves on! But then you fuck up and it all goes to shit when Marley shows up fucking crying!'

Sirius cringed. He should've expected this. Marley and Lily were good mates after all. A friendship born and maintained after having lived in the same dorm for seven years. While not best friends, the witches were fairly close. He really didn't want to hear this. 'It's not your business James, stay out of it.'

'Problem is that your little girlfriend _is_ making it my business.'

Now it was his turn to glare. 'She's not my girlfriend.'

'-I don't give a fuck what she is Sirius. Just sort her out cos I'm done with it. Lily and I have enough shit to deal with without Marley adding to it.' James shook his head as he walked towards the Disapparation point. 'It's Sunday mate. Floo call Mum if you don't plan on showing up for tea. She worries.'

He did end up calling Mrs. Potter, deciding against leaving in order to keep Remus company instead. The werewolf hadn't been much for conversation as he'd been unconscious throughout. So really, he'd just sat by Moony's bedside, resting his eyes. He may not be able to accompany him on a full moon anymore, but that didn't mean he slept during them. He simply shifted to mask his human scent and sat on his balcony, hearing Moony howl and hunt.

He must've been more tired that he'd thought because when he opened his eyes, morning had given way to fading sunlight and Remus sat up in bed, talking to Peter.

'Pleasant surprise isn't it?' said Remus. His voice rough and hoarse.

Sirius nodded, smiling at the short wizard. 'It's been a while mate. How are you?'

Peter shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face, a blush beginning to stain his round cheeks. 'M'okay. My mission finally ended and I knew it'd been full moon last night. Couldn't go home without checking on Moony first.'

Sirius thumped him in the back, 'Good lad.' Grey eyes turned to the werewolf. 'And you?'

'I'm alright.'

Sirius nodded and smiled, knowing damn well that was a lie but he didn't argue, allowing Remus to save face. 'I'll be right back.'

Racing down to the Disapparation point, Sirius shut his eyes when pressure closed in around him. When he opened them, he was faced with a fiery Valkyrie atop a two headed dragon, staring him down. The poster of a band, it was the only evidence that a famous metal band had visited this town. With a wink at her gorgeous tits, Sirius left the park he'd appeared in and walked to The Rooster in the Mule.

He didn't bother to be a smart arse. He was far too busy and Remus needed his strength. The Marauder ordered their meals, necked a pint as he waited, and raced out of there as soon as he could, practically flying through the woods and up two flights of stairs.

When he entered Moony's room James had joined them as well.

All four stared at one another. Each aware of the fact that it had been a long time since they had been together. Months in fact, perhaps even a year. Three of them at once was rare, two was common. All four at once? It was odd.

'Well this is fucking weird,' said James and Sirius had to agree.

Remus cleared his throat. 'Should I be honoured that you all gathered because of me?'

'Nah mate,' said the rat Animagus with a sideways nod at Sirius. 'We're only here cos we love us some Cock in the Arse.'

And that lessened the tension.

Their conversations we're still riddled with awkward silences but when that happened, a joke was made and families were discussed. Well, they talked. He just listened.

Talking about his family wasn't a topic he enjoyed considering that they wanted to _Crucio _and _Avada Kedavra _them all.

Inevitably conversation moved to the Order. Both James and Remus informing Peter of recent events. Particularly one that had occurred a week ago, during the Appleby attack.

Benjy Fenwick was a selfish arsehole that had no common sense or, depending on one's point of view, a true hero with the right idea.

He liked the bloke well enough, but that didn't change that the tall blond was a bloody fucking moron. Reckless and impulsive was a bad enough combination, but add in revenge fuelled anger and you had a recipe for disaster.

At twenty-four, Benjy had become a ticking time-bomb.

Mad-Eye agreed as well, if his growled yells the day after the attack had been anything to go by. Sirius needn't ask what had happened, because he'd been able to hear everything that Alastor was yelling at the lad. And that had been without his advanced hearing.

He and Dorcas had been dropping off potions at the Appleby safe house, had just left its wards in fact, when the attack began. Order wards had come crushing down and different wards had been raised as spells were shot around them, successfully trapping those in protective custody within the house. The pair had witnessed it all, completely unable to do anything as the wards didn't allow them to pass or for those inside to leave the burning building. Rendered useless as the house burned down and its occupants screamed, Benjy hadn't handled it well and chased after Disapparating Death Eaters.

He'd actually managed to cling to one of their robes and had gone along for the ride. He, James and Remus had joined fellow Order members when an emergency meeting had been called. Frantic and worried, the Order had been in the process of planning a rescue mission when Benjy strolled into headquarters happy as Larry, as if he hadn't been missing. Bloke had actually had the nerve to look insulted when Mad-Eye manhandled him.

Moody had grabbed the idiot by the shirt and pushed him into his office, slammed the door behind him and had quickly proceeded to tear him a new arsehole. He couldn't really blame the old bastard. Benjy was steadily becoming more and more reckless.

Then again, he couldn't blame Benjy either, not after everything the poor bastard had been forced to live through. More than once, Caradoc had advised Dumbledore that Benjy was a danger to himself and others. Completely unfit for battle, that he needed help... but it always fell on deaf ears. Fact was, Benjy Fenwick was a superb Curse Breaker and the Order needed him. With the war steadily growing worse, it didn't matter that he was a liability or that he was too damn angry to care.

Out of them all, he was the single Order member with the most confirmed kills, totalling sixteen if his word was good. That number was all the more shocking considering he'd only been a member for a little over a year.

At this rate, it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

'Do you think he'll be kicked out?' asked Pete after the story had been told, his eyes wide.

Sirius raised his fag to his lips. Enjoying the rush of hot smoke as it invaded his senses. Remus and James shook their heads.

'He's too important,' answered James as Remus replied with, 'We need him.'

Sirius remained quiet, not really interested about a conversation that involved Benjy Fenwick. He exhaled and watched as the silvery smoke danced upwards. Twisting and morphing.

'But... He broke protocol. Shouldn't he be kicked out?'

Yes he should've been. Technically, he would've been kicked out a long time ago.

For a long moment no one answered the shorter wizard.

With a sigh, Moony finally did. 'He can't be.'

'Why?'

Sirius shook his head, frustrated with this line of questioning. Frustrated with the shit topic. Sometimes, Pete was too much like a damn child. Simple conversations lasted longer than necessary, all because of his constant fucking questions. At this rate, Wormtail wouldn't stop asking until he got a straight answer.

'Because he's too dangerous,' said Sirius, completely exasperated.

From the corner of his eye he saw Wormtail turn to him, an expression of surprise and dawning realisation on his face.

'Oh,' he said slowly. 'Yeah...'

And there was the simple truth of it.

Benjy couldn't be kicked out because he was too dangerous. As long as he was in the Order, he could be watched. If he was let go, he would only manage to become yet another problem. The bloke needed order and focus. Without them, he'd be no different than the monsters he was fighting against.

As it stood, Dumbledore appeared to be the only one who could calm him down.

Even Moody, whose sole purpose in life was to instil fear, couldn't manage to subdue the bloke's temper. Then again, after having lived through hell, he doubted anything beyond the face of his tormentors could bring fear to the blond.

Or at least he suspected they would. Since his rescue and allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix, Benjy had managed to hunt down and kill two of his captors.

The tall blond killed Death Eaters without prejudice... and for that reason alone, Sirius was cautious of him.

A knock of the door startled them, wands quickly appeared from under a robe, pillows and back pockets.

'Remus? May I come in?'

Three grins erupted as Remus blushed.

'Yeah!' he yelled at the closed door. 'Come in Dorcas!'

The door opened, and in strolled a beautiful woman of thirty-three, holding a tray full of food. When she saw them all together, dark eyes lit up and full lips broke into a stunning smile. Remus turned to the dark-skinned witch with an apologetic side smile.

'Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise! Look at you guys, all together and Marauding.'

Sirius nodded, as the other two greeted the powerful witch.

The Great Obliviator settled the tray on Remus' desk and made her way towards the werewolf. A soft smile on her face, tender eyes solely focused on Remus. The pair spoke in muted tones, soft caresses and lingering smiles. Moony's spirits lifted in milliseconds.

It was disgusting.

As Dorcas lowered her lips to meet Remus', Peter quickly averted his eyes. James and he, simply stared. He was happy for his friend. After all the shit Remus had been forced to endure, he deserved this.

The remaining Marauders made to leave but were quickly stopped by the witch.

'No, no, no. You guys stay, I'll leave. I only came to bring him food, but judging by the take away I assume Sirius did the job for me.'

'Sorry Dorcas,' he said and meant it. If he'd known she was showing up, he really wouldn't have bothered.

The witch shook her head. 'No worries Sirius, thank you.'

A handful of pleasantries were exchanged before she made her leave. When she did, the silence crept up again.

They'd lost something he thought and felt his chest ache from the loss. If Sirius was one for metaphorical shit, he would easily say that with Moony's rejection, the era of the Marauder's was well over.

As he eyed his three best mates, he knew it wasn't true though. The awkward silences and odd moments were perfectly normal for people who had begun to steadily grow up and apart. It only made sense that this war added unnecessary strain on their friendship. After all, it was hard to be someone you stopped being a long time ago. People changed and evolved. Friendships did as well. Fact was, they would never be how they once were. It was impossible.

Sirius grinned when Peter made a lewd comment to break the silence, and as James roared with laughter, pointing at a blushing Remus. The ache in his chest lessened. No way in hell was this the end. Of the five people whom he trusted with his life, three of them were in this very room and that would never change.

They may not speak as often as they used to and all four of them together, at once, may have become a rarity but it didn't matter. Not even the awkward conversations did, because the Marauders weren't broken.

And they never would be.

* * *

With a groan and an aching head, Hermione slowly opened her eyes.

Not at all willing to meet the new day, she lay motionless in bed, still half asleep and staring at the canopy above.

The light coming in through the windows burned her scratchy eyes and the noise from the grounds below put her on edge. As annoying as both were they hinted at the time, well past midday.

Her promise to attempt a normal day once again a failure. Admittedly, she hadn't really tried. Yes, she'd promised Dumbledore that she would aim for normalcy... but it was too hard a task considering she didn't give a damn about anything.

Unfortunately, she had to pretend. It was with that thought that Hermione reluctantly got out of bed and aimed for the loo, a shower in mind. Doing her best to avoid looking in the mirror.

She knew what she'd see and she didn't care to see it again. Curls tangled, eyes bloodshot with dark circles under them, she was thinner than she'd ever been, her skin pale almost translucent... Hermione didn't recognise the girl who stared back at her anymore and she didn't care.

If it were up to her, she wouldn't bother pretending that everything was going to be okay. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to her. It was all on the Headmaster, who insisted that she have a routine. So she slept and dreamt of terrible things, ate tasteless food and breathed as she went through the motions of daily life. All while she avoided seeing the pathetic creature she had become.

Besides, her appearance was the least of her problems.

Since her meeting with Croaker a week ago, her sleeping pattern had spiralled out of control again and her magic... It had become a problem.

When she did manage to rest, nightmares ruled her subconscious. The majority of which centred around her loved ones. Of Harry and Ron dying at the hands of runaway Death Eaters as they searched the world for her. Of her mum and dad remembering her and hating her, uncaring she'd disappeared. That was the worse one yet... no one caring that she was missing. Foolish though it was, that nightmare was far too vivid and far too repetitive. It was hard to hate her dreams though. In them, she was able to remember their voices and see their faces. In the real world, that act was too painful.

She couldn't bring herself to think of Mum, Dad, Harry and Ron.

Her memories of him - _them_ \- were tainted. Used by The Woman for her own purposes, they'd been molested and damaged. Mutated and turned into something ugly.

Remembering them hurt too much. A deep ache that was beyond words and tears.

Hermione had nothing.

She was a shell with no future and a past that haunted her. The older witch had robbed her of so much. She'd effectively stolen her future and poisoned her past.

Thinking of the mad witch caused her blood to boil. Rage, unlike anything she'd ever felt before or believed herself capable of feeling, paralyzed her. And for those brief moments, she understood how easily one person could destroy another. Hermione had never believed herself capable of killing someone, and yet her mind swam with images of that very scenario.

Freshly showered, she walked back to bed and lay down as she struggled to focus on anything beyond the loud ticking of the grandfather clock.

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock..._

Damn thing was purposely mocking her, she was sure of it. Ignoring it, she dressed and walked towards the kitchen. As she did, Croaker's Mokeskin pouch caught her attention. Inside it, she'd found the Unspeakable's personal journal.

Hermione quickly learned that Saul Croaker kept methodical and precise notes, to the point that he had practically turned it into an art form. Though at first sight, it all seemed a mess, his notes were in fact organised chaos. The man was a genius, plain and simple. His journal was a vault of time-travel knowledge unlike anything she had ever believed possible.

His theories, as impossible as they may have seemed, all had valid reasons behind them. His ideas on paradoxes was unprecedented. Croaker's work was truly impressive. Had circumstances been different, she would have enjoyed a conversation with the short man.

As it was, she was here and he was back doing whatever it was that he did, completely oblivious to her existence.

Croaker had been right. There had been no possible way for her to return home.

Within the span of a week, the Unspeakable had explored every single possibility. All his theories, according to his detailed notes, came back inconclusive. And so the Time-Turner remained unchanged as time ticked away.

Hermione was very aware of the fact that the world she found herself in was not her own. In her circular room she had a spectacular view of the grounds. The scenery was far too similar to what she knew and for a few hours, she could pretend that nothing was wrong.

Then the bells would ring.

Students with uniforms different to the one she had worn, and hairstyles she thought as out-of-date, would swarm the grounds. Professors she didn't know walked the fields and those she did recognise, walked with an agility she had not known them to possess. It was overwhelming. Especially, when some scenes appeared too close for comfort.

The witch walked over to the open windows and stared at the students as they made their way to class.

Yesterday, Hermione had witnessed two Hit-Wizards enter the grounds, guided by three Aurors. She had witnessed a similar scene once before when Susan Bones had been collected after her aunt's murder.

Hermione had waited to see who they'd come to collect. She wished she could say that she had been sitting there out of respect but it would've been a lie. Morbid curiosity wouldn't have been an honest answer either.

Truth was, she just wanted to see another person suffering. It made her feel less alone.

Misery loved company after all.

Small clusters of students had formed and the whole of the school seemed to have held its collective breath. Trailing behind him, she recognised the two Hit-Wizards from before and a small form walking between the pair. The student had to have been a first year. Behind the three were two Aurors, a trunk levitating between them.

Hermione had watched their little procession until with a blue flash, the Hit-Wizards, kid and trunk Portkeyed away.

Hermione turned away from the window, only to be met by a disgruntled House-Elf. Hands on hips, scowl firmly in place, it just stared at her.

'Hooky has been standing here for the past ten minutes Mistress,' he squeaked.

Hermione blinked, not at all bothered. 'You should have left after the first one.'

The elf didn't reply, rather it snapped his fingers and a plate of food appeared at her table. Ignoring it, she grabbed an apple and moved from her seat near the window, to the couch by the fireplace as the elf began to gossip.

The young witch knew she could at least pretend to pay attention, but fact was she wasn't interested in Hooky's trivial house cleaning problems.

Rather she focused on her chewing and thought back on the memory of the previous day.

From her vantage point, she hadn't been able to distinguish beyond figures and shapes.

It made her wonder about the kid's reaction. If he or she had been crying and distraught or shocked and in denial. Either way, Hermione thought bitterly, at least the kid had a vague idea as to what had happened to the people they'd lost. Vanishing without a trace had to be so much worse. Not knowing the fate of missing loved one was torture. To think of her parent's unknown fate and of Ron and Harry's worried...

Hermione shut her eyes and firmly refused to go down that path.

Somewhere in the background, Hooky continued his pointless story and the ticking grew louder.

'-and Hooky told Dilny to quiet herself or Hooky would...'

She truly wished he would just shut up and go away. All he ever did was prattle on about the stupidest of things and quite frankly, she didn't care. She just wanted silence.

Unfortunately, that wasn't a possibility as the small elf was her constant companion and he had a tendency of getting anxious when it was too quiet. After having been alone for so long though, his company was a welcome one but that still didn't mean he had to talk every bloody second.

It was with relief that the miniature elf froze mid word. She'd quickly learned that this was a sign of being summoned, which meant Dumbledore had called him. A crack of Apparation later and she was blissfully alone. It didn't last. The Headmaster had simply called him so he could in turn inform her of an impending visit.

She knew what was to come. It'd been a week and all that time, she had been expecting this. As her panic swelled, objects around her began to vibrate.

Sure enough, Dumbledore's visit was about her departure from Hogwarts. She'd argued and tried her best to make him see reason, but it had all fallen on deaf ears and all throughout, that damned clock had not. Stopped. _Ticking!_

Hermione grabbed the nearest object her magic was rattling - Croaker's journal - and threw it at the antique woodwork. The clock face broke with a loud and satisfying crash, and shattered glass fell to the floor. Still, it continued to tick.

She rounded on Dumbledore, angry tears in her eyes. 'I can't leave! I'm safe here!'

'You are safe nowhere.'

Her mouth fell open, tears blurring his edges. Hermione shook her head, struggling to prolong her delusion, even as it crumbled around her.

She was safe in Hogwarts. _She was._

'No,' she whispered as hot tears ran down her cold cheeks. 'No...'

'I sheltered you from the truth Hermione,' he said softly. 'You had not been well enough to handle the enormity of your situation. Some part of you knew, from the very beginning, that you would be unable to return. Your case had been far too complicated for it to be so easily remedied. You did not allow yourself to accept it however. As you healed, I searched for a solution. When it became clear that my research was, for lack of a better word, pointless, I sought out Professor Croaker. He had been my last resort... My priority then became your safety. The truth of that I'm afraid is that as long as you are here, in this time, you will never be safe. You are now in constant danger. And though it would be the easier option, I cannot in good conscience keep you here, hidden and locked away in a tower forever.'

Hermione wanted him to stop talking. Never before could she remember wanting to _Silencio_ someone as much as she did now.

_But you can't,_ mocked a scathing little voice in her head that sounded like The Woman.

The young witch shook her head as she bit the inside of her cheek. She absolutely refused to focus on the truth of that statement.

Pleading eyes stared at the man as the rattling continued. 'Please sir,' she whispered. 'I can't leave.'

Dumbledore met her eyes, shaking his head slowly. His eyes dull. 'Your situation has become far too dangerous.'

Hermione blinked, not understanding his comment, nor caring to.

'Why can't I just stay here?' she asked again.

The Headmaster eyed her and after a moment, sighed.

'Your magic has become volatile Miss Granger.'

Hermione blinked, completely side-lined by his abrupt statement. Realisation was slow to come but when it did, the implication of his previously cryptic words hit.

He meant that she was dangerous.

_Her._

That's what he'd been trying to say.

Her magic rolled and the windows began to shake. All her anger and frustration intensified. She felt electric. Explosive. Vibrating with suppressed magic, her fingertips tingled with raw energy and Hermione saw red. She wanted to hurt and destroy. To make the world feel as she did and the Headmaster... he was right there.

Closed fists slammed down on the armrests as she stood, rounding on the wizard she spoke without thinking.

'I am _not_ dangerous!' she spat. _'I'm not Ariana!'_

Dumbledore froze and the room temperature dropped as his gaze burned through her. His features stony, undisguised fury in his eyes. The power the older wizard radiated slammed against her chest, and it _floored_ her. Hermione clenched her teeth together, her jagged nails bit into her palms and she felt herself break out in a cold sweat.

_Too far. She'd gone too far._

The Headmaster looked away, bowing his head into his steepled hands and slowly, the warmth returned to the room. When his eyes opened the twinkle was gone, replaced by a guarded look. When he spoke, it was with clipped tones.

'Croaker was correct Miss Granger. Your presence in the school would bring unwanted attention. Truth is, you are not age appropriate to be a student and far too young to hold any position within the grounds. Even an apprenticeship would require authentic Ministry paperwork and identification. An entirely new identity would be needed. If we somehow managed to succeed without arousing suspicion, it would be an altogether different case of alarm if you appeared mid-year. Strangers are a threat as Professor Croaker said. For safety reasons, Hogwarts is in lockdown. The only adults allowed in the grounds are professors, staff and Ministry stationed Aurors. As it stands, less than honourable school governors have been attempting to see me removed from the school. I have no doubt that they would use you as the perfect catalyst to guarantee such an event and I cannot run the risk of leaving the school unprotected.'

The young witch remained silent, her mind racing.

There was no point arguing or hoping for a different outcome. The older man had clearly given his decision more than a bit of thought. If he strongly believed the students were in danger, there would be no changing his mind. She would leave the school because she had to. Because it was the safest choice for the students in his care.

The scared and desperate side of her wanted to selfishly argue her case, but she knew he was right and for more than one reason.

Hermione dwelled in the past, yet it wasn't really living. She felt as if she was drowning... and she didn't care.

It was that, more than anything else that told her what she needed to know. For her sake as well as the students' safety, she had to leave.

The rattling stopped, and the grandfather clock's ticking became louder as everything else grew silent.

Shards of glass sparkled and dots of light scattered around the room in the setting sun. The effect was rather whimsical.

'What will happen to me?' she asked quietly, completely defeated.

'I will not prolong your move any longer Hermione. To do so would be unnecessarily cruel,' the Headmaster said. His tone once again soothing, almost apologetic. 'Within the next hour, as you prepare your belongings, a plan will be set in motion that will guarantee your safe arrival to a secure location.'

_Her own Advance Guard,_ thought Hermione as she blinked away tears. Remembering in vivid detail a night long ago, where she had risked her life with a potion to save the life of her friend. She'd been just as scared then.

'Who...?' _Who's risking their life for me?_

Dumbledore took it to mean something else entirely.

'-An old friend of mine. I am confident that you will be as safe there as you are here Hermione. I also believe that she is the best suited to help you. She is unique in the sense that she is one of the few souls left in the world who is willing to help those in need, no questions asked. A fool, however, she is not. No doubt she will catch on to the fact that your situation is more dangerous than initially stated. For obvious reasons, no matter how curious she becomes she must not be made aware of the truth. The less people know of you, the better.'

And then he'd gone.

Leaving her to collect her things, which weren't really hers. All her possessions were forgotten and lost items supplied to her by Hooky. In the end, only a few articles of clothing were shoved into the small Mokeskin pouch... and didn't that just about sum up her life in the past perfectly?

The hour sped by. The ticking of the horrible clock grew louder and then the clock chimed. The hour was up.

She grabbed the pathetic little bag and made her way up to the Headmaster's office. She knocked once and was about to do so again when Dumbledore called for her to come in.

She pressed her forehead to the door and shut her eyes. Tears streaming down her face. Her belly ached and her hands shook.

It was all out of her control. Everything was. Even her own body.

_Breathe Hermione._

She turned the rattling doorknob and walked into the room.

She didn't speak or dare to look up, she was far too scared of breaking down in front of the Headmaster again. Too many times he'd been a witness to her problems, she didn't want him seeing it again. Not now.

'Hermione?'

She didn't look up. _Couldn't_ look up.

A sigh and then silence. After a moment, 'I would like you to meet our security for the night Hermione. I believe you are acquainted with Alastor Moody.'

Shocked eyes shot up and zeroed in on a scarred face and an electric blue eye.

Her mind raced with suppressed memories and the strength of them froze her.

Images flashed through her mind in rapid succession. Of Firewhisky filled glasses raised in honour of the man and his sacrifice. Of her asking him survival questions and tips. Of his advice on protection spells late at night when they had both been unable to sleep and sought refuge in the large Black library. He'd always seemed annoyed at her incessant questions but she'd overheard him tell Dumbledore that as long as Harry had her, the lad wouldn't be in as much shit as he would be without her.

Logically, she knew this was Mad-Eye, and yet her mind fought against it. Because Alastor Moody was dead. Killed by Voldemort himself on a chilly summer night. His body's whereabouts unknown. So this _couldn't_ be him.

The man before her was dead.

_Dead, dead, dead._

Just like Dumbledore and she was in a room with them.

She couldn't do this.

She was in a room full of dead people, trapped in a place that would soon become eclipsed with war and she couldn't leave. The Woman had made sure of it, Croaker had cemented it and now Dumbledore was seeing it all through and she was in a world where the dead walked.

'No,' she muttered, shaking her head, still eying the powerful Auror. _'No, no, no...'_

All around her objects shook and Mad-Eye took out his wand, both of his eyes on her.

From the corner of her own, she saw Dumbledore carefully approaching her. He was treating her like a caged lion, which, she thought with a hysterical little laugh, she technically was.

'Hermione... breathe...'

_Breathe._

That was his answer to everything. But it wasn't an answer. It was an order. One she was expected to follow even as she drowned because she was nothing more than a book made to be read and a specimen meant to be studied. She didn't exist after all. In this time, only the dead did.

A hand on her back startled her and several of the Headmaster's books toppled over. She shut her eyes and tears pooled behind her closed lids.

Breathe. _Breathe._

She turned and met the elder wizard's stare, his features blurred by tears.

'I can't leave,' she gasped between strangled breaths. Her voice hitching. 'You're all dead. _You're all dead_ \- I can't - please, _please don't...'_

He pulled her into his arms and held her. He didn't speak. No one did in fact. The whole study remained silent as she cried. A part of her had hoped that he would drop his plans, but by the time her tears stopped and he'd not yet spoken, she knew there was no change. She would leave Hogwarts. She had to. As if reading her thoughts, the Headmaster spoke.

'You cannot stay in the school my dear. And for that, I truly am sorry.'

She didn't respond because she didn't know what to say.

'Albus, the sun is setting. We'll have to leave soon.'

She felt rather than saw Dumbledore nod.

'Alastor has consented to help us tonight Hermione. With the climate as it is, I feel an extra wand would be welcome. We...' his voice faded away.

She was really leaving the castle.

For the first time in so many months she wouldn't be locked away. It should have been a good thing. It should have been a relief. Instead, it terrified her. An object behind her fell to the ground, its' rattling much louder now as it shook against the stone floor. To her right, Fawkes began to sing. She didn't fight the magic this time, allowing his song to soothe her.

As heat spread throughout her body, Hermione did some mental counting. Including her kidnapping and her time in the past, she had not set foot outside for three months.

The fact made her anxious. It was nothing compared to the fear she felt though. The thought of going out made her nauseous and caused the back of her neck to prickle.

But there was nothing she could do or say that would put a stop to this. Not when Dumbledore was so determined.

Fawkes sang louder, her heart began to calm and noises around her began to settle. It was only then that she felt herself grasping something soft in her hand. Dazed and confused, the young witch looked down at her opened hand. She was holding a red feather. It was warm to the touch.

_Odd,_ she thought seconds before a backwards jerk of her navel had her violently flying through the air.

Panicking, Hermione fought and screamed.

_No, no, no!_

Her body slammed down on something hard, the wind completely knocked out of her. There was yelling around her as she struggled to catch her breath. She was shaking and she could feel someone tugging on her arm.

Brown eyes met blue and she flinched away. Rapidly crawling towards the nearest wall as loud noises continued around her.

'Hermio...'

She shook her head as she cowered on the wall. She shut her eyes and covered her ears. She pressed her lips together. She wouldn't speak.

_She wouldn't make a sound. She wouldn't make a sound. She wouldn't..._

'Drink!' ordered a voice, as a bottle was put in her hand. She did as she was told. The Woman would only curse her into drinking it anyway.

Bitter and foul, the potion burned its way down her throat. It took seconds for her breathing to steady. Her heart slowed and a second later her mind followed their lead.

Hermione furrowed her brow, blinking slowly as she studied the empty bottle in her hand. It was small and purple.

'Calming Draught,' said a grizzly voice to her left and she remembered everything.

The Woman wasn't here and this wasn't the same as before because Mad-Eye was alive and part of her very own Advanced Guard. Hermione stared at the Auror. His real eye focused on her and his fake one swirled to the back of his head. All she could see was a great, white ball sticking out of his eye socket and she giggled as a sudden thought struck her.

'So...' she slurred. 'Do you just walk around all day seeing penises flapping around?'

Behind Moody, the Head - _Albus_ she thought with another giggle - covered his mouth as his body shook and his eyes twinkled like mad.

Choking noises to her left caused her to turn and her gaze settled on two red headed men. She didn't need to ask who they were. She had seen photographs of them. Long haired and stocky like Charlie, they resembled Molly Weasley perfectly. Their deaths had become the stuff of legend and valour, the kind that American Muggle films imagined and that many secretly fantasized about.

'The Prewett Twins! Fabian and Gideon!' she exclaimed amidst her continued laughter. 'Heroes and... _Gingers!'_

The brothers raised their eyebrows at the same time, in perfect unison. That only managed to set her off even more.

It took five minutes for the giddiness to subside. It was a common side-effect if the potion was taken on an empty stomach. When it did, Hermione managed to stand on shaky legs. She refused to look up, even as they began speaking to her.

'Do you knows us in the future then?' asked a twin.

Before she could react, his question was swiftly followed by the sound of a muted punch.

_'What the fuck?'_

'Stupid bastard!' growled the other.

'Gideon, Fabian,' said the Headmaster. 'Allow me to formally introduce you both to Miss Hermione Granger.'

She bit her lip and avoided eye contact. The brunette didn't greet them in return, nor did she answer when she was prompted. The silence that followed was awkward and strained but she was far too overwhelmed to be bothered.

Moody was the only other one who didn't care for pleasantries.

'Yes, yes we're all very fucking friendly. Perhaps later we'll all sit down and have a nice cup of tea but for now we have to go Albus,' he commanded as he scanned the street from the window.

Dumbledore walked to her and held her firmly by the elbow but his eyes were on the twins. 'Did anyone come and go?'

'No,' they both answered.

'It was just like you said Albus,' said the twin on the left. 'The professor hardly ever has guests. She's been alone all day.'

'All day?' scoffed the other twin. 'She's been alone these past two weeks you mean.'

The older wizard chuckled. 'It's not for lack of trying or disinterest on anyone's part, I assure you. Her fan base, though limited, is very loyal and opinionated. This is her real home but she claims a fake address in Liverpool. The building there is constantly broken into.'

'Told you you were wrong. It was too weird that she was always alone,' said the right twin to the other.

'I don't care,' snapped the left twin. His tone betraying him. 'Fabian and I will be going to our positions now Albus... It was nice seeing you again Hermione. Good luck.'

Two sets of steps made their way out, when the sound of a door closing followed she turned to Dumbledore. Her face must've shown her bewilderment.

'Gideon, the twin on the left, was the first to encounter you. His brother had been on the other side of the safe house. After the Death Eaters were successfully run off, both agreed that your appearance was far too suspicious and rather than calling for fellow Order members, Gideon and Fabian brought you directly to me.'

Her eyes moved to the Auror, still at the window.

'Second in command,' said the Headmaster simply. 'He was also the one who set the wards for that particular house. It seemed right to inform him.'

Hermione licked her lips, her eyes turning back to the wizard at her side. 'Why didn't you Obliviate the twins?'

Dumbledore sighed, 'I admit to not having an actual answer to that particular question... Perhaps I knew - even then - that you would require secure transport.' He shook his head. 'Had I not seen their fate through your memories my dear, I perhaps may have.'

The young witch blinked and shifted from one foot to the other. That was the closest they'd ever come to discussing his use of Legilimency on her.

'How much did you see?' she muttered to the floor.

'Not much and nothing in precise detail. The mind is far too complex and you'd not been alert, indeed aware at all. All that I saw were a series of distorted images, out of order and nothing concrete.'

To their left, Moody cut him off. '-the twins are on either end of the street Albus. We need to leave now.'

Desperate eyes ran over the length of the room when Dumbledore nodded. It was only then that she took in her surroundings. They were in a sitting room, from her vantage point she could see a kitchen and a garden. Bland furniture, wooden floors, fading wallpaper on the walls, no personal items anywhere... she was in an Order safe house.

'We will walk to the end of this street and turn right,' said Dumbledore. 'Stay close to me Hermione. Do not leave my side for any reason. Alastor will follow from under an Invisibility Cloak.'

She only heard half of what was said. Her mind was racing, her heartbeat loud in her ears. She was afraid and at the same time apart from all these sensations. The Calming Draught no doubt. Had it not been for the potion, she doubted she would have felt this disconnected or controlled. It was an oddly soothing effect and Hermione understood how easily an addiction to this potion could form.

She drew a blank then, she must have, because she suddenly found herself walking outside and breathing in crisp air. Moonlight and starlight above her, shadows all around her. Every so often sounds of life reached her from an opened window. Laughter and conversations drifted over her, as did the faint sound of an infant crying. Church bells rang somewhere in the distance and a dog began to bark in response.

Her head turned in every direction. Her eyes sought out every corner and as they did, she swore she knew this place.

Their walk only lasted five minutes, if that, and in that time she pondered a stone bench they had passed, completely certain she'd seen it before. And if not that bench then definitely that town square...

Distracted by her thoughts and the utter familiarity of the place she barely caught the Headmaster's words. 'Here we are Miss Granger.'

Standing before the door, she finally recognised the small town and the walked path that led to this particular home.

She _had_ been here before, a few months ago in fact. On a lonely Christmas Eve, starving and afraid. Trembling from cold and fear, expecting an attack at any second she'd barely taken in her surroundings.

She and Harry had been safe until a shuffling old lady directed them down this very street and invited them in...

Before she could stop him, Dumbledore raised a hand and knocked. His many rings sparkling in the moonlight.

Hermione's heart raced and her stomach clenched. Her breathing came in shallow gasps and her body hummed with repressed magic. The distinctive sound of rattling windows once again surrounding her.

'Easy Granger.'

They'd almost died here.

It wasn't safe.

_Voldemort knew of this place!_

She looked upwards into the very window she and Harry had crashed through.

'...mione? Breathe...'

Blood red eyes had bored into hers, full of fury and rage, the promise of death within their depths. To this day she didn't know how she'd managed to react in time.

_'Granger!'_

The urge to flee was overwhelming but before she could act on the impulse the door flew open with a bang and creak of its hinges. A wand aimed between the Headmaster's eyes. The glowing tip sufficiently distracting her, pebbles and flower pots crashed down around her and windows abruptly fell silent.

'What biscuits did I bake for you as a child?' asked a sweet, feminine voice. It's owner hidden by shadows.

The Headmaster smiled, completely unfazed by the fact that he was at wand point. 'You never baked biscuits. The only thing you were able to successfully bake were Cauldron Cakes and you most certainly did not bake them for me.'

A slight pause and the wand was lowered. With a click, the lights came on and the tiny shape of Bathilda Bagshot came into view.

A foot shorter than Hermione, the older woman was dressed in a flowery dress. Snow white hair was pulled into a low bun, her eyes twinkling as a smile grew and dimples appeared on the witch's rosy cheeks.

Pale green eyes peered at the pair of them curiously, finally settling on the Headmaster.

'Albus Dumbledore,' said the little witch. 'What the fuck are you doing here?'

Behind them, Moody snorted.

The little witch's eyes scanned the open space behind them. 'Who is that?' she asked sharply. 'Is it the pervert?'

Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle. Clearly, he was enjoying this. 'Hello Bathilda. It is lovely to see you again.'

'I know,' she said... and then nothing.

Did not attempt to invite them in, no further questions were given. The miniature witch just stared and smiled. A look that she recognised from Luna so many times before. Her belly ached at the thought and she averted her eyes, blinking away tears unless the professors saw.

'Why are you crying girl?'

Brown eyes widened and she felt heat race up her spine. 'I-I'm not,' stammered Hermione.

The older witch snorted. 'Oh Merlin... no wonder you brought her to me Albus. Come on then. Let's not avoid the inevitable.'

Mrs. Bagshot moved aside granting them entry, the second Dumbledore cleared the threshold however, the tiny witch slammed the door which was followed by a dull crack. Outside, she could hear Moody cursing.

'Perverts with creepy eyes stay outside,' she said simply.

Dumbledore shook beside her, bowing his head as Mrs. Bagshot passed him, inviting them to follow behind.

Hermione didn't know what to think. Her mind fought to relate past images with the new sight before her. It was impossible though. The contrast was like night and day.

There were books on every corner of the sitting room. Bookshelves overflowed. Scrolls littered the room. Letters poured over her dinner table. It was undeniable that a scholar lived here.

It was with no great flourish that she sat down and invited them to do so. Sit however was too much of an exaggeration as the aged witch flopped into her seat. It was at this point that Hermione found herself completely confused.

_Was this really the great Bathilda Bagshot?_

Besides foulmouthed, she also appeared to be very direct.

'So is this a personal favour or an Order one Albus?'

The Headmaster chuckled. 'I am doing well thank you Bathilda. How are you?'

'Eh,' said the witch with a shrug. 'When one reaches a certain age being as I am becomes a bit of a shock. So I'm exceptionally well. I was just contemplating the pros and cons of offering strangers bits of toffee as I walked down the street in nothing but a thin bathrobe and slippers.'

Dumbledore really did laugh at that. 'Always planning ahead Bathilda?'

The white haired witch nodded. 'Not much else for me to do, I'm afraid. Answering questions via post has become too dangerous. Helping strangers isn't exactly a wise choice these days...'

'A most worthy segue.' Admired the Headmaster with a nod of his head.

'I thought so.'

'Bathilda, may I introduce you to Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Bathilda Bagshot.'

Hermione did a sort of head spasm thing and she was sure she muttered something because the tiny witch in front of her smiled in return.

'Likewise,' she answered before turning back to Dumbledore. 'So which is it Albus? An old friend's type of situation or something that'll piss off Voldemort?'

The wizard took his time to answer. No doubt trying to find a reasonable answer.

'The latter I'm afraid... though it is a bit of both.'

Hermione's mouth fell open. Had he really just answered her? _Honestly?_

The famed author studied the powerful wizard. 'She must be very important for you to bring her to me.'

The Headmaster didn't bat an eyelash. 'She is.'

'Does he know of her?'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'She does not exist.'

'And she is to remain as such?' asked the witch with a raised brow.

'She must.'

Bathilda turned to her, 'And is that what you want?'

She didn't answer right away. Truthfully, at this point, she didn't know what she wanted. Finally, she answered with an, 'I have to.'

Professor Bagshot didn't say anything following her reply. She merely stared. After several minutes she spoke. When she did, her voice was quiet. 'Are you scared Hermione?'

She didn't hesitate this time. 'Yes,' she whispered as tears rimmed her eyes.

Mrs. Bagshot turned to the Headmaster, 'Whatever it is that you think she should or shouldn't do, means shit to me Albus. I'll look after her, keep her well and fed, but don't expect me to aid you in building a soldier.'

'I'd thought as much,' said the wizard.

The tiny witch nodded as she stood and made her way out. 'I'll go have some words with the pervert as you two say goodbye.'

Resigned to her fate, Hermione didn't say much as Dumbledore began to speak. All his rules and orders were eerily similar to those she'd received upon entering Order headquarters for the first time at the age of fifteen.

_Do not leave the house. Do not attempt to communicate with anyone. Assume you are being watched at all times and act accordingly. Be safe._

She felt like a child again and even though she hadn't really paid attention she nodded along, humming every so often.

It was all surreal. She felt like she was all at once floating and watching a film in the cinema. Hermione saw it all happening through a screen and couldn't relate it to herself because what she saw happening, didn't feel real.

All too soon, Dumbledore made to leave. She latched on to him, her grip strong and desperate._ 'Please?!'_

The wizard placed a hand over hers. Dull blue eyes bore into hers and though he said nothing, she understood perfectly. There was no going back. This was her life now and she needed to accept it. Gradually, she let him go and so, with a parting nod, he turned to leave as Mrs. Bagshot entered the room.

As he walked, the Headmaster sneezed and Hermione blinked. It was such a normal, _human_ thing to do that it actually left her stunned. It was ridiculous of course, Albus Dumbledore was a person after all... but still. It had never actually occurred to her that he was not above simple, human things.

Brown eyes watched the powerful wizard walking away. 'Bless you,' she murmured.

Mrs. Bagshot eyed the Headmaster's retreating back as well, settling back on Hermione only after the sound of a door closing rang throughout the house. 'Did you know that it was believed that with a sneeze all bodily functions stopped, including your heart? That's why it's customary to say bless you, because you were blessed to have your heart restart.'

Hermione blinked. She... had known that actually...

The tiny witch nodded. 'It is also physically impossible to keep one's eyes open during a sneeze. It's an involuntary process.'

The curly haired witch blinked slowly. Completely confused and not knowing how to respond, or even if she was expected to.

Apparently not as the older woman made her way to her book heavy sitting room. With a head nod and a gesture of a wrinkled hand, Hermione absentmindedly followed behind. She felt like a lost puppy and then, all at once, ashamed as she flinched and stumbled when the tiny historian pulled out her wand.

Mrs. Bagshot didn't say anything when it happened. Did not acknowledge it at all in fact. A slight pause, the only indicator that the witch had even seen. The older woman's movements became much slower though. From the corner of her eye, she could see the shorter witch studying her.

Thankfully, a rushing sound broke the awkward silence as two bottles flew through the air. Seconds later, she found a pop shoved under her nose.

Mrs. Bagshot motioned to a large brown box in the middle of the room. With a jolt, the curly haired witch realised that what she'd mistaken as a desk was in fact a telly. All wooden panels and ridiculously large, it was a far cry from the sleek, black plastic she was accustomed to.

'Sit,' ordered the tiny witch.

Hermione did. Still clutching her pathetic little bag with one hand, a Coke firmly in the other, both were held close to her chest. She watched as the magical historian flicked her wand at the television. A smile on her face as it roared to life with a familiar tune that surprised the younger witch.

Professor Bagshot turned to her smiling, white eyebrows raised expectantly, all dimples and rosy cheeks. 'Do you like Doctor Who?_'_


	5. Ground

Once again, thank you to my wonderful English rose of a beta, David James. Besides being a great support he's also a fantastic writer. Check him out, he's in my faves lists under _TheUnrealInsomniac._ If you enjoy Harry/James family fics then _The Reluctant Champion_ may be for you.

* * *

**Silver**

Ground

* * *

A child's cry woke her. It had been too foreign and sharp a sound for Hermione to ignore.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she took in the book filled room. It'd taken a few moments for clarity to hit and when it did, she turned her head and smothered a cry into the pillow. Shaking with heart wrenching sobs, Hermione wept uncontrollably. She lay in bed staring at the skyline through the open window until her tears dried.

As if burned, she sprang up and stood in the centre of the room. She turned her head every which way, staring at the bed and its sheets, at the walls around her. She didn't remember getting up here. Or laying down. Or having fallen asleep...

A crash beneath her caused her to jump and Hermione turned to the loud swearing and the distinct sound of Professor Bagshot's voice yelling. 'C'mere you little shit!'

A muffled voice, too high pitched to be anything other than an elf's, replied. 'Old bat was nosing!'

'It's my damn house!'

'Miss Hermione's bag belongs to Miss! Not yours to touch!'

_Hooky?_

Another crash erupted, this time followed by a high pitched scream. Hermione reached for the shaking door and threw it open as a louder crash shook the floor below her socked feet. She didn't remember taking off her shoes.

A small hallway met her questioning gaze. Black and white Muggle photographs covered the rose patterned wallpaper. Any noise she made as she snuck down the stairs must've been drowned out by the argument below.

'You is not to touch!'

'How fucking dare you?!' screeched Mrs. Bagshot.

Her heart beat faster with each step. She automatically turned towards the sound when she reached the bottom, the raised voices guiding her towards the sitting room from last night.

Anxious at this second meeting she lingered by the entrance, listening to Mrs. Bagshot's yells, Hooky's heated replies and wondering what the house-elf was doing here.

'...at's house does not mean she can be nosying!'

'I was not nosying!'

'You was holding Miss Hermione's bag trying to open it!'

'To try and break the magic!' growled the witch.

'Thievesses!' accused Hooky.

'Fuck you!'

'First Old Bat poisons Miss and now Old Bat tries to steal Miss' things! Hooky will be reporting to Headmaster!'

'It was a sleeping potion you stupid elf!'

Hermione blinked then frowned. _Sleeping potion?_

The vague memory of the tiny witch preparing her tea before bed sprang to mind. Hermione's mouth fell open as she finally entered into the room.

Inside she found the tiny woman and elf facing each other, glaring at one another from opposite sides of the tea table, Hooky clutching at the Mokeskin pouch with one hand. His hold on it so tight that his knuckles had actually gone white.

Golf ball sized eyes turned to her and widened with obvious relief.

'Miss Hermione! You's alive!' exclaimed Hooky as Mrs. Bagshot spoke.

'Sleeping potion worked then?'

Hermione ignored Hooky, her focus taken up by the fact that she'd been given a potion without her knowledge or consent.

_'You drugged me?!'_ she blurted out.

The elder witch didn't turn to look at her but continued to glare at the small elf. 'Yep.'

'Hooky will tell!'

'Fuck off!'

'Old Bat needs mouth washing with soap!'

A dull ache grew behind her eyes as the two continued to argue. 'Hooky!' she interrupted him, hoping to stop the yelling. 'What are you doing here?'

Professor Bagshot answered before Hooky could. 'Your pet rat followed you here.'

'-Hooky is not a rat!'

'-he bitched so much about you being alone that Dumbledore asked if I could take him in, I agreed and now I own an elf.'

Hermione looked at the glaring elf. 'And why are you holding my purse?'

'Cus Bat was nosying!'

'I was not! How dare you lie about your Mistress!'

Hooky's ears wiggled as his right eye twiched. 'Old Bat is not Hooky's mistress! Hooky serves Hogwarts!'

'Fuck you. Make me a sandwich!'

Hermione's eyes flew back and forth between the witch and house-elf. Each glaring at the other as they continued to argue.

The small elf, defiant against the witch brought back another memory. Long suppressed and ignored, she was unable to push it away this time. Her scarred arm itched. Her joints grew rigid and pressure in her head built.

Bottles knocked together, books toppled over, parchment swirled around the room and Hooky and Batty grew silent. Both pairs of eyes focused solely on her.

'Mistress Hermione...?' squeaked Hooky cautiously, as he made his way towards her slowly. 'Remembers what Headmasters Dumbledore said. Miss Hermione must breathe.'

He said a few other things but she didn't hear them, his words were nothing more than background noise. Her mind was somewhere else, stuck in a vivid memory that had yet to come.

_Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf!_

Her heart pounded in her ears as dots of light blinded her, a painful throb erupted in her temples and her eyes burned. Her fingertips prickled. Her body vibrated with suppressed memories and unrestrained magic.

_Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!_

A blow to her chest stole her breath seconds after a red flash overtook all her senses. The last thing she saw, right before darkness claimed her, was Hooky yelling as he turned to face the older witch. A white light escaping his outstretched hand as Bathilda Bagshot slammed into the wall.

The sound of laughter awoke her.

High pitched and irritating, it grated her aching head. It took her a second to realise that she was on the floor. She sat up, her sore back protesting her every movement.

The sound of tinkling tea cups rang behind her and she cautiously turned. She blinked, unsure if what she was seeing was real or not.

Mrs. Bagshot was dressed in a gown that was sure to have been the height of fashion in the eighteen hundreds, she was wearing white satin gloves and a tiara. A tea cup in hand, she turned to the curly haired witch. A smile pulling at her lips, her dimples pronounced.

'Hermione!' exclaimed the older woman as she carefully stood, 'Good of you to come around. Hooky and I are debating over washing machines. He says, they're horrible things, I say my knickers have never been cleaner. What say you?'

The younger witch continued to stare at the sight before her.

Looking absolutely demented and pleased with himself Hooky smiled widely at her before he raised a tea cup to his puckered lips. His... lace covered pinky up in the air. Hooky was wearing black lace gloves and a purple hat topped with a burgundy feather. Only then did she notice his fancy dress and... high heels.

She was so confused. Her aching head wasn't much help either. Hermione struggled through the painful fog and then she remembered.

_She'd been cursed!_

'Sit Mis - _Hermione,'_ squeaked the elf as he shuddered. 'Hooky will serves you tea.'

She didn't move. She simply glared at the old witch. Hermione couldn't believe the nerve of this woman. Blood pounding in her ears, Hermione continued to pierce the woman with her stare as picture frames began to bang against the wall. The sound of bottles knocking together reached her, but she didn't care. She only had eyes for the small witch.

Mrs. Bagshot pointed to the shaking cutlery. 'Learn to control that or I'll be forced to Stun you again.'

The rattling got louder, things toppled over and the lit candles flared.

_'How dare you?'_ growled Hermione through clenched teeth.

Mrs. Bagshot raced an eyebrow. 'Muggles next door just had a baby, I will not allow you to disturb them nor my bottles of wine. So I shall do as I see fit in my own damn home. Learn to fucking control yourself and this won't be an issue. And for the record, I do not like being spoken to in that manner. Next time you do so, I will curse you and prop you up against that corner, facing the wall. You want to throw a temper tantrum like a damn child, I'll fucking treat you like one. Now sit the fuck down, shut the hell up and eat your Full English!'

All noises stopped as her magic began to settle.

Wide eyed and slightly intimidated, a subdued Hermione lingered in the corner a few seconds longer before shuffling towards the table. The plate before her looked and smelled delicious, her appetite however was once again nonexistent. A glare from light green eyes dared her to object. She reached for her fork, intent on eating what she could. It was then that she realised that what she'd mistaken as salt shakers, were in fact potion bottles.

'Mmph,' said Mrs. Bagshot after a hearty gulp of tea, smacking her lips. 'Vitamix Potion cos you're a slip of a thing and Draught of Peace for your anxiety. Here,' she said as she pushed a turquoise, leather bound book towards her. 'Start practicing or you and that bit of wall will become the best of mates, and not in the fun _'Oh yes daddy, please spank me harder!'_ kinda way.'

For lack of a reply and simply because she didn't know how to react to that comment, she picked up the heavy book and read the title. _'Meditation Techniques for the Constipated Witch.'_

Hermione blinked and took a second to take in that title. Brown eyes turned to the magical historian.

Mrs. Bagshot pointed to it. 'That book's helped me through some of the hardest shit of my life.'

She should have known it then that her life was going to abruptly change yet again, because life with a woman like Bathilda Bagshot - _Batty_ \- was a truly unique and altogether different experience.

Though awkward at first, she soon found herself at ease and began to enjoy picking at one of the greatest minds the wizarding world would ever know. It was a welcomed distraction she had to admit. Discussions with Professor Bagshot didn't require much effort on her part and it kept her mind from wandering. With the woman's extensive knowledge of the past and Hermione's of the future, she was only just able to keep up.

Brilliant and powerful, the older witch had no qualms about speaking her mind or doing what she wanted, which in turn led to some spectacularly amusing moments. Some which Hermione wouldn't have believed were it not for her witnessing them firsthand. For as long as she lived, she would never forget the image of Batty dancing beneath a full moon, honouring the Spring equinox.

A tradition rooted in the old ways, Hermione didn't think that witches of old had intended for a naked, ninety plus year old woman with flowers in her hair to dance to the tune of YMCA, with an equally naked house-elf as a companion.

She'd been unable to look away and had seen things bouncing that she really wished she hadn't.

She hadn't been surprised about the elder witch's song choice though. As the weeks passed, Hermione came to learn that Batty had a fondness for all things Muggle. Unlike Mr. Weasley however, she actually knew what she was talking about. The tiny witch had no problems with pronunciations, she knew the correct terminology for things, understood their proper uses and had even taught her a few things.

As a world renowned magical historian, it was only logical that Batty was a treasure trove of knowledge. Every so often, the older woman would spout out random bits of pointless and interesting information.

The curly haired witch had once asked her how she had learned so much. Batty's answer had caught her off guard, but had not been at all shocking.

'Back in the day, it was customary for witches and wizards to travel around the wizarding world for year after leaving Hogwarts. I visited the Muggle world instead,' she'd said with a shrug. 'After the year was over, I didn't stop. Couldn't keep away. Truth is, both worlds are alike and in more ways than one. The differences only come into play when discussing technological advancements and scientific research. What one world lacks, the other makes up for it. Just look at the wonders each has managed to produce! We have brilliant medical resources. Pensieves and porkeys... And the Muggles! They've got space travel! Telly, films and vibrators!'

Hooky it turns out, had conditions for his stay. He had to learn how to read and had to have his weekends off. He was also forbidden from calling anyone Mistress or Master.

It was a rough start, but he eventually got used to it.

Slowly but surely Hermione grew comfortable with the woman and her new surroundings.

It also helped that the older witch didn't look at her and search for signs of a psychotic break like Dumbledore. Here, she was neither book nor specimen.

Hooky too had changed. Under the tutelage and guidance of Batty, the loud little elf had only managed to become more opinionated and outspoken. She'd lost count of the many times she had heard the pair of them arguing over topics that shouldn't, by any logical reason, be a topic of heated discussion. At least Hermione didn't feel that arguing about which way the toilet paper roll faced was important. A few times, she had come downstairs to find both Hooky and Batty passed out, bottles of wine and Muggle tequila surrounding them.

It was extremely ironic, Hermione thought, that Butterbeer caused an elf to get completely drunk while tequila only served to make them tipsy.

_How_ Hooky and Batty had discovered this, Hermione didn't know.

Time moved on, the war continued and as Spring showers gave way to Summer rain, Hermione had begun going out into this strange and foreign world.

It hadn't been a sudden thing. She'd been too scared, too damaged, and far too overwhelmed to leave the house. But slowly and with Batty's influence, she took to the streets of Godric's Hollow.

Sitting outside the garden slowly led to her stepping out the front door in order to retrieve Batty's post. Gradually, simple and easy things gave her confidence to accompany the older witch on outings. From local shops to market, Muggle or magical, on a few occasions whenever they hit Batty's fancy, midnight strolls around the sleeping town.

It was remarkable how the war hadn't managed to touch Godric's Hollow. She knew that outside the safety of this village, the war raged. History made it fact and yet... sometimes she forgot.

This little village, located in the outskirts of major towns, surrounded by rolling hills and green mountains appeared so far removed from what she knew was happening all over the country, that it was far too easy to forget that that sense of safety was just an illusion.

That illusion however, Hermione found that it was all at once unbelievable and comforting. It also helped explain why the Headmaster had brought her here.

The brilliant man must have known that in Godric's Hollow she would've been apart from the war and that with Batty's presence and strong willed personality, that she would have begun to heal.

She still had her moments of anxiety of course. It was, she eventually felt, completely understandable. If she loathed waking up in the morning and had no hunger, it too was justified. She doubted anyone in her situation would've handled the whole ordeal perfectly and without some trauma.

'Be fair to yourself,' Batty had once told her, after one of her panic attacks.

It had been such a simple line, meant with no great importance she was sure, but it had struck a nerve and had since cemented itself into her daily life.

When she cried or felt like screaming, when her magic got out of hand and she couldn't manage to control it, when she couldn't will herself to get out of bed and lay with silent tears rolling down her face, when it all became too much and the realisation hit that she carried the weight of the world on her fragile mind... in those moments of weakness, be fair to yourself carried a lot of weight.

Hermione was just a girl and it was fine to be overwhelmed and scared. She didn't have to be strong or pretend to be in control. Here, she held no responsibilities beyond those she set on herself and that was okay. The world's weight was not her burden to bear.

To maintain that frame of mind, she avoided the news and newspapers. Ignorance, she found, truly was bliss.

It wasn't difficult either, ignoring the war. Batty didn't read the _Daily Prophet_ nor did she watch the news.

'The _Prophet_ is overrun by Galleon-hungry-fame-seeking-whores and Muggle shit doesn't affect me,' she'd stated.

Batty claimed her time of knowledge seeking was over. As far as she was concerned, her years of academia had brought her to the ultimate conclusion that both worlds were overpopulated by stupid arseholes and that a new plague was needed.

Hermione didn't believe a second of it.

A historian, magical or otherwise, who didn't read current events was a professional failure and Batty... she was the best in her field. Hermione suspected Dumbledore was behind it, but she didn't ask. Nor did she really care. Having a temptation, in the form of the _Prophet,_ laying around was an incident waiting to happen. Not knowing anything about the wizarding world suited the younger witch just fine.

If a mysterious death was announced suddenly amidst the adverts, Hermione met the report with a blank stare and apathy. Detachment, she also found, came easily. After what she had been through and after having lost so much...

This war was not her problem.

Hermione had played her part, and this had been the end reward. She didn't care. It wasn't fair and she'd had enough. She didn't owe anyone anything. She was done.

Resolutions and epiphanies aside, she was still finding it difficult to adjust.

The brunette couldn't remember the last time she had smiled or laughed. Time healed all wounds, it was said. She supposed it was true enough, it didn't however guarantee happiness or a renewed sense of purpose. It also didn't make her magic return to what it once was.

With Batty's help however, she managed to find some measure of control. When she didn't, the older witch was more than willing to help her. Batty made it no secret that she found a certain degree of perverse pleasure in cursing her. The historian also proved to be somewhat of a Seer, as Hermione and the wall had indeed become the best of mates.

Hooky helped by using his magic when she needed magical assistance.

In this unknown world, full of chaos and uncertainty, Hooky and Batty had quickly become the foundations she needed to build on.

They didn't question her or her erratic moods. They accepted her as she was, and it meant everything to her. That isn't to say that they weren't curious about who she was, or of her mysterious past.

As ashamed of it as she was, Hermione occasionally found herself snapping at the tiny elf who only wanted to help. Hooky, _bless him,_ took it all in stride. Never accepting her apologies, always stating that there was no need for them. Eventually, the brunette began to suspect the house-elf knew more than he was letting on. She hadn't asked if he did, but she could swear that his looks and stares were a bit too knowing and far too understanding.

A few times, Hermione forgot what year she was in and a few things accidentally slipped her lips.

Nothing major was said or mentioned, but her mistakes were obvious enough that Batty would give her a look. She usually played it off as momentary confusion brought out by her headaches. It was an easy lie based on a truth, but she knew Batty didn't believe it. The older witch was far too clever.

Anyway, she wasn't really lying.

When her magical outbursts got out of hand, her head did ache. Other times, they'd hit for no reason at all. On a few occasions, sharp and localised pain caused her to seek complete silence and darkness. Rarer yet, some lasted more than a day. After some time, Batty encouraged her to tell the Headmaster.

Dumbledore hadn't been alarmed. The Imperious Curse and her inability to control her magic, he believed, we're the cause.

'Ariana,' he informed her, 'too had suffered from headaches.'

Victims of Imperio he explained, were known to suffer from headaches. An after effect of prolonged exposure. 'The mind,' he had said, 'does not care for intrusions.'

She had to agree, potions hadn't really helped. Only rest did.

It was after one of these episodes that the young witch secluded herself in her bedroom. Blinds shut, the room silenced by Hooky, she'd slept. She had shut her eyes when the sun had been high in the sky. When she'd opened them again, Godric's Hollow lay beneath a blanket of stars.

A glance at her clock told her the time. With a jolt, the curly haired witch realised she had been asleep for well over twelve hours. She felt better though.

Rubbing her eyes and intent on drinking a cool glass of water, Hermione slowly made her way downstairs. Only to find the empty sitting room bright with light and the glass doors to the garden open. She didn't hesitate to follow their path and quickly found Batty on her knees, planting her garden.

'What are you doing?' she asked as she approached the stooped witch.

Batty started and in a move that defied her advanced age, stood and whirled around. Her wandtip glowing and set between Hermione's eyes.

The younger witch raised a sardonic eyebrow, 'Paranoid much?'

Batty huffed a nervous laugh as pale eyes ran the length of the garden. 'Yeah... You just startled me is all. This late at night, no woman anywhere appreciates being crept up on.'

Hermione eyed the elder witch. 'Why are you being weird?' she asked suspiciously. Her own eyes now scanning the surrounding area.

Batty shook her head, 'Ignore me. I'm just being stupid.'

'What's wrong?' she asked as Batty knelt to once again tend to her plants.

The elder witch didn't answer right away which only managed to make her suspicion grow. Dark eyes scanned the skies and garden, finally settling on the stooped witch. 'Batty?'

'Dumbledore sent his Patronus while you slept. Several attacks have happened... One after the other. Hogsmeade, Kent, Mould-on-the-Wold, Bury and two others that I don't know the names of - Muggle towns - Giants and Inferi were involved. Told me to be on alert. Sent us these.' Batty reached into her apron's pockets and pulled out a thin parcel. Two bright red feather tips peaked from the top. 'In case he decides to attack Godric's Hollow at the end of the night.' The tiny witch turned to her, 'What time is it?'

'Close to one in the morning,' answered Hermione, her brow furrowed. 'He's still attacking...?'

Batty nodded. 'Arsehole attacked six towns so far. It's been all over the radio. Dumbledore suspects he'll stop at seven. Prick must love the irony of making the longest day of the year even longer. Fucking tosser.'

Hermione's head turned every which way, scanning all shadows so thoroughly she forgot to speak. Batty read this perfectly.

She turned to her, her voice calm and soothing. 'Don't worry dear, our situation is not completely hopeless. Besides the portkeys, we have one other ace up our sleeves.'

'Which is?'

'That Voldemort doesn't know you're here.'

She literally felt her heart skip a beat.

Batty's matter of fact and blasé tone did more to prove her point than anything else she had said or done.

As quickly as it came, Hermione's worry faded away. Replaced now by a bone deep weariness.

She was so tired.

Hermione groaned, 'Batty, don't.'

'Don't what? Tell the truth? Sorry,' she said shaking her head, 'I can't do that. Actively avoiding and ignoring the dangers of your situation will not help you survive. Whether you want to admit it or not Hermione, you were a mess when you first came to me. I had no choice but to allow you your grief and lack of awareness. You're much better now though and with that, comes the ability to acknowledge and handle your limitations... you must accept the threats that surround you while learning to live in spite of them.'

_That's an odd thing to say,_ thought Hermione with a lick of her lips. 'What do you mean?'

'I meant that just now you were amused by my planting and the second I mentioned anything war related, you froze up and shut down and quite frankly, I'm tired of it. Everytime I see you begin to smile or see a spark in your eyes, you hold back and stop yourself. And that's doing a disservice to yourself and most importantly, to your loved and lost.'

'I-I never said I'd lost someone.'

'You didn't have to - hand me those pruning shears dear... thanks - I saw it Hermione. You were mourning.'

She shook her head, preparing to argue.

'Spare me your crap. Shut your mouth and use that big fucking brain of yours. Five Stages of Grief and Loss Hermione, count them off cos I'm damn sure you made your fucked up way through them: One! Denial and Isolation,'

_Have you purposely locked me out Miss Granger?_

She hadn't, not intentionally.

'-two, Anger,'

Her temper flaring at Croaker's exhaled breath.

_Do you know anything?!_

'-three, Bargaining,'

Dumbledore insisting that she had to leave the grounds.

_I could be a Professor, a-an apprentice! I-I could help Hagrid!_

'-four, Depression,'

Her reflection swam through her eyes. Of her laying in bed staring up at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking, hardly daring to breathe.

'-five, Acceptance. Tell me... how many of them have you experienced?' Searching, pale green eyes turned to her. 'I thought so,' she said, nodding. 'Look Hermione, I don't know who you were before, or what brought you to me, but I do know this... once upon a time, you were happy and safe and a far cry from the person you've become. It's obvious that you lost a lot, including yourself and you're allowed to be sad because of it. But it's not alright to feel guilty for laughing or smiling or for moving on and _living._ You owe it to yourself and to your loved ones to live a happy life.'

_A happy life._

It sounded like an impossibly hopeless task. A far off notion with no chance of it ever becoming a reality because happiness without her boys and parents required far too much effort. A certain amount of strength would be needed, strength she knew she didn't possess.

She'd never seen herself as particularly brave. Hermione had always thought of herself as a pragmatist. Constantly in life-threatening situations, she had simply learned to react and _do._ Her ultimate goal, to keep Harry and Ron alive.

Without them however, she was left with no actual sense of self. For seven years, give or take a few months, they had been her life. Had made her a part of something far greater than her. They and the war had been her purpose.

With Ron and Harry, she had been strong. Alone, she was a mess. History proved it.

Her first few months in Hogwarts. Third year when she had a falling out with them. Fourth year when the boys fell out with each other. Fifth year when Harry was unreachable. Sixth year when she and Ron argued and again when he left because of the Horcrux... Hermione needed them to function.

Could she really go from having spent seven years alongside them saving and fighting the world, to alone and into a quiet life of anonymity?

This wasn't meant to be her life... How was she to move on when that fact kept repeating itself in her head?

'I don't know what to do,' she mumbled, staring at but not really seeing the flower in her hands.

Weathered hands covered her own as Batty took the flowered pot from her. 'It's simple... You just take the plant and pull, like so...'

Hermione watched as she grabbed the base, where stem met dirt and pulled. The plant came up as its' roots sprang free. 'The roots are still strong and healthy you see?' she said, raising the dead plant to eye level as bits of mud fell away. 'There's great potential for new life here. You just... have to cut away at the dead bits... There! See!' Batty rotated the now trimmed plant, 'Its' stem, underneath all the wilted flowers and dead leaves, is still as sturdy as it was at the peak of it's bloom. A bit worn yes... but still good.'

She made a hole with her trowel, 'Now, It's just a matter of replanting it and with time... it'll grow again.'

'There's no guarantee it'll bloom,' said Hermione quietly as Bathilda shoved dirt around the stem.

'I know, but what's wrong with trying?'

'It's not that simple Batty.'

'Yes it is,' replied the older witch. 'The hard part is always getting the ball to roll.'

The tiny witch straightened then, her dirty gloves rubbing at her lower back. 'You dishonour the ones you've lost, by refusing to live Hermione. They wouldn't want this for you, I'm certain of it.'

_Would they?_ she wondered, a bit unsure of the answer.

The curly haired witch put herself in their position.

She'd be worried and scared if one of the boys had gone missing. Terrified with horrible possibilities, she'd search the world over for them. However, if she somehow figured out they were in the past, alive and whole... she'd want them to be happy. For them to live a long and healthy life until their paths crossed and met again.

She thought of her Mum and Dad, both of whom had always dreamed of seeing the Great Barrier Reef. Of Wendell and Monica Wilkins, who one random day, decided to leave Britain and pursue their dream. The image of them smiling at her and waving goodbye as she boarded the train to Hogwarts flashed through her mind's eye. Her mum's watering smile, her dad's firm hug.

'We love you sweetheart. We'll see you soon.'

_They wouldn't want this for her._

With tears in her eyes, Hermione took the trowel from Batty's hand. When the second plant was replanted, Hermione sat back and watched it alongside the elder woman.

'There,' Batty murmured, smiling at the plant. 'It's ready to begin anew.'

* * *

The Order had emergency protocols for when things went wrong in the middle of a mission or battle.

Created through the exhausting method of trial and error, they were ever changing, forever evolving and severely fucking flawed.

Case in point, Sirius and Emmeline had been scouting a suspected Death Eater's home for the past twelve hours. Information picked up from a raid indicated that Amethius Travers was a high ranking Death Eater. So here they were, in his sprawling manor grounds, outside the ward's range, checking out his home. Twelve hours was a lot of time but when all they had to do was sit and watch, it dragged on twice as long and gave dull a new meaning. Especially since no one had come and gone and all they'd done was stare at a fucking building.

It was exhausting work that had only managed to piss him off.

For the past few hours, Sirius had been looking forward to leaving. Had, in fact, been picturing a nice cold beer and his comfortable bed. After so many insomnia filled nights and as exhausted as he felt, Sirius was positive that falling asleep wouldn't have been an issue tonight.

All that was left to do was wait for their relief and only then would they be able to leave their post. The one exception to that rule was when no one showed up. Magic was not allowed and total silence was strictly maintained during a scouting mission. Unless completely necessary, they were to do nothing more than observe their target.

So no Patronus would be sent to warn them of a battle. No alarm would be raised if there was an attack. They were, in every sense, kept out in the dark.

Only way they would know something was wrong was if no one showed up to take their place. As it stood, their relief was-

'Ten minutes late. That's it,' said Emmeline. 'It's gone one, let's go.'

The tall witch stood and without so much as a worry of being seen or heard, turned on the spot and Disapparated. Sirius held his breath. Steel coloured eyes darted towards the manor house, only to be met with silence. No reaction whatsoever to the familiar crack of Apparation.

_'Shit!'_

Following the brunette's move, Sirius closed his eyes, gripped his wand's handle and turned on the spot, holding his breath as darkness squeezed in around him. Seconds later he was back in Cannock Chase with Tilny before him, shifting from one foot to another.

'What happened?' he asked her, quickly noting her blood splattered tunic. A dull ache settled in the pit of his stomach.

She twitched at his raised voice and flinched even harder when he reached out for her. Floppy ears shook, her eyes red rimmed. 'Attacks Master Sirius. Lots of them.'

'Where?'

'Everywheres. Tilny is to take yous and come back and wait for o-others,' she squeaked. Her high pitched voiced catching at the last word.

'Tilny,' he said quietly, kneeling to her eye level as he fought back bile. 'Are you okay?'

The little elf trembled as she shook her head and rapid tears fell. 'Tilny is scared Master!'

Sirius held her for just a second and released her just as quickly. There was no time for tears. Perhaps later, but right now, it wasn't an option.

'Control yourself Tilny. Tell me the rules.'

The elf wiped away her tears and breathed deeply before speaking. 'No rules Master.'

Sirius nodded and reached out for the elf's shaking hand. 'Okay Tilny. Let's go.'

In the blink of an eye the quiet serenity of his woods was replaced by chaos.

People yelled, screamed and cried out all around him. Smoke assaulted his nose, making it harder for him to breathe. His eyes watered. His lungs burned just as hard.

He flinched from a crash to his left. Tilny trembled and cried as she pressed her face to his thigh.

'Go home Tilny!' he ordered over the roar of the battle, completely focused on the first person he recognised.

Up ahead and to his right, kneeling over a child's body, his wand waving furiously, was Caradoc. His face black from smoke, glasses mysteriously gone, his Healer robes were torn and filthy with blood.

Sirius watched as the wizard shook his head and stood. Only to have his attention grabbed by another prone body, unlike the poor kid though, this one was still moving.

Caradoc ran towards it. Completely uncaring of the spells flying around him, only raising his wand to shield himself or deflect stray spells.

Whether he reached the body or not Sirius didn't know as a nearby explosion caused debris to block everything from sight in a thick cloud of black and acrid smoke.

He ducked his head as rocks fell from above. His cheek stung and a moment later, a sharp pain struck him at the top of his head. Bright spots erupted before his eyes as he began to choke. Coughing, he dazedly shook his head, stumbling into the wall behind him as he did.

From within the smoky darkness, he saw a bright green spell appear and hit the pavement where he'd been standing seconds before.

Sirius reached out a hand and felt his way across the wall, carefully moving away from the silky blackness and suffocating air.

Sounds around him intensified. Screams echoed around him as spells were yelled and cries for help were called out. The smoke began to thin. Lights began to appear from within the haze.

Near him he heard a woman hiss her curse. _'Avada Kedavra!'_

A man in the background yelled his commands, 'Follow them to the centre square! That's where they a-'

The bloke began to scream. Footsteps pounded away as people began to run.

Sinister moans swept over him. The stench of rotting flesh reached him.

_Inferi._

He felt the heat long before he saw the orange wall of fire rolling towards him.

He ran back into the smoke. Hands out, feeling for obstacles. Blinded and stinging eyes searching for safety. Lungs burning as choking coughs escaped him. The sound of crackling fire grew closer.

His boot caught on something and Sirius fell. His outstretched hands just barely catching his fall.

Panting for breath and eyes wide, Sirius realised he could see a bit more clearly. The smoke on the ground was thinner.

He crawled towards a shop opening nearest him as his arse began to burn and his boots began to feel hot. The cobblestone caused his knees to hurt, but it was fine. Burns would hurt worse.

He barely had time to empty and hide in a cabinet before the sound of roaring fire silenced the night.

Sirius struggled to shut the cabinet door, but he was too big.

The heat grew stronger. His skin was burning. Sweat dripped down his eyes. An orange glow fell across every object.

The fire had reached inside. Glass splintered and broke apart from the heat. Figurines around him shattered. Wood crackled and blackened.

He tried to shut the small door. It was pointless though as flames flickered up the small door. He pressed himself further into the cabinet - and then the fire was gone. Replaced by a cloud of cool, evaporating mist.

His head fell back. The wood behind him warm to the touch.

A different voice called out. 'Head to the centre square! Aim to capture! Kill if you have to!'

Sirius squeezed his way out of the small drawer intent on following the voice's command.

He ran after a group of Hit Wizards. Their grey uniforms easily standing out amongst all the black.

Jumping over scattered bodies and limbs, Sirius waved his wand as he ran. Only stopping to deflect or defend himself.

He needed to get the town square.

The Marauder turned a corner and quickly ducked when a spell hit the wall, just missing his face.

As his feet slipped from under him, Sirius raised his wand at the Death Eater who had fired at him, only to be met with a pair of blank and watery eyes.

He shot a Stunning Spell at the bloke. The wizard didn't so much as try to dodge it as he raised a hand with missing fingers. _'Avad-'_

Having missed the robed wizard by a foot, Sirius quickly fired a second spell at his feet. The bloke slipped on the icy cobblestone. Another Stunning Spell and Sirius ran past, making certain to step on the man's wand.

He didn't see it happen.

One second he was running, the next he was flat on his back, struggling to catch his breath as the wind was knocked out of him. Rocks and dust and fiery embers falling around him.

Sounds were muddled. Everything slowed to a standstill. His heart beat loudly in his ears.

He managed to sit up. Crawled his way towards the nearest wall and fought the sudden haze.

It took him a second to process what he was seeing.

Fighting back to back, dressed in full Auror garb were Alice and Frank stood in the centre of circling Death Eaters.

He watched as a masked wizard threw himself at Frank who turned just in time to catch him mid-air. His hand around the man's neck, wand pointed at his face, Frank flung the Death Eater away with a burst of magic.

Alice on the other side of him, battled three wizards at once.

Expression stony, her wand released a pink spell. The three masked men fell, screaming as they clutched at their heads.

Frank turned and pulled her aside, raising his wand.

He flicked his wand and the Death Eaters lay bound and tied. Still screaming in agony, Alice ran towards them and thrust objects into their pockets. As a Death Eater began slamming his head on the cobblestone they disappeared in a flash of light.

The petite brunette made her way back to her husband, deflecting a bright yellow flash as she did. Alice turned just in time to see Frank fall.

Eyes flashing, the tiny witch released an angry scream. Slashing her wand in the direction of the Death Eater, purple flames burst from the tip and cut through the robed wizard.

The bloke screamed as purple flames engulfed him. Tendrils of fire reached into his eyes, nose, ears and mouth. Sirius flinched when he saw small tendrils reach into the man's trousers.

The wizard collapsed, thrashing violently before them. Alice ran back to Frank. Eyes blazing, she stood guard over him. Her wand waving furiously, daring anyone to approach her and her fallen husband.

The man, clearly struggling, attempted to get up. The petite witch flicked her wand at him and the masked wizard crashed into the opposite wall with a resounding crack. Sirius saw the bloke's neck twist oddly before he landed in a crumpled heap, onto a pile of wood and stone.

A high pitched squeal reached his ears. Like a shot to the gut, his breath left him as grey eyes found and followed a scampering rat.

The wizard had fallen on Wormtail.

Peter was alive. He was alright.

Sirius watched as the rat Animagus ran through a collapsed wall, into a destroyed building.

He stood and ran towards the broken shop but quickly stopped.

Hidden by a billowing cloud of smoke, the Death Eater hadn't spotted him.

Sirius watched as the masked man moved past him. Moving slowly, the Death Eater stopped to stare at Alice's back.

Head tilted, the bloke raised his wand.

Before he was seen or before the masked wizard had time to react, Sirius moved. He aimed at a pair of windows beside the man.

_'REDUCTO!'_ he bellowed.

The glass shattered and flew outwards towards the hooded figure. Sparkling shards embedded themselves into the Death Eater's side. The robed wizard fell to his knees as he released a pained cry. Pulling at the larger shards, the man became frantic when his hand found one imbedded on his exposed neck. In his panic, the wizard pulled it out.

No sooner had he reacted, did blood gush from the wound and bubble out of his mouth and nose. In his desperation, the man attempted to reinsert the glass and stop the flow.

Sirius ran to the shop intent on seeing Peter and making damn sure the shorter man was okay.

To his left, a Death Eater yelled. _'Avada Ke-'_

He jabbed his wand at the woman who crumbled to the pavement, her hands scratching at her throat as she struggled to breathe.

He kept running, jumping over bodies as he did.

A thunderous roar erupted somewhere in the background, quickly followed by several screams. Muggles ran or scrambled away from the noise. Order members, Aurors and Hit Wizards raced towards it.

Another great rumble and the ground shook beneath his feet. An explosion in the distance echoed around them resulting in another collective scream. The smoke became thicker and the night grew darker. From within the smoke a child cried out for his Mum.

Finally reaching the destroyed building he found Peter huddled in a corner, shielded by a bit of wall.

They didn't speak, barely even acknowledged each other, both too intent on watching the battles raging outside.

He felt the shorter wizard trembling beside him.

Sirius turned his head just in time to watch Peter fire off the Killing Curse at a Death Eater's back.

His gut clenched.

Silver eyes followed the Death Eater's limp body as it fell.

_A Death Eater's mask. Grey eyes peering at him through it._

He tightened his hold on his wand

Sirius grasped the shorter wizard by the shoulder, making him jump, almost causing him to drop his wand. Wild eyes turned to him. Shaking and crying, the rat Animagus rapidly nodded his head.

'I-I'm okay,' said Pete. His voice shaky and high pitched. Frantic, blue eyes moving from person to person. 'I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay-'

Sirius returned the nod shakily. 'Okay,' he breathed.

He hadn't seen him in months.

The now familiar ache settled in the pit of his stomach.

Regulus could be here.

Fighting. Killing. Dead.

The need to know if his brother was still alive hit him once again. Like always, it was overwhelmingly strong.

Sirius made his way out of their hiding spot once again headed towards the main battle. Firing spells as he did. Not permitting anyone from stopping him and not stopping for anyone.

Around him more Aurors appeared.

As he ran, he searched for a silver mask with dark grey and small, thin black swirls. The only one of its kind, it was easily recognisable from all the rest.

_Black swirls for the Black heir. You should be honoured cousin._

He ran faster. His eyes scanning the fallen Death Eaters he passed. The taste in his mouth sour, his stomach twisting at the sight of them.

It'd been exactly six months since he'd seen that mask and worry had since turned into desperation.

He kept running and swiftly stumbled when all around him yells rang out.

'RETREAT!' hissed a voice. The sound of it disturbingly seductive.

It seemed to have come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Shivers ran down his spine and the hairs on his arms stood on end.

Standing Death Eaters Disapparated. Injured ones attempted to flee as well. A few successfully managed it, while others only managed to splinch themselves. An overweight wizard tried to Disapparate as he ran. The result of it ended with the bloke's lower half still running as his torso disappeared in a whirl of magic and bright, red mist. The dissection so cleanly made that it looked intentional. The separation of body so unexpected, that his legs ran a few more steps before finally collapsing. Still, his feet continued to twitch.

Had he not seen it first-hand, he would say that the image of still running legs was funny. Except that it wasn't. The blood spurting from the severed legs had been too sobering an image.

The cracks of Disapparation continued as more Ministry officials and Healers began to appear. The town was quickly becoming overrun.

That was it. The Death Eaters had given up.

Sirius turned back around. Ignoring the ache in his head, he realised yet again that it would be quite some time before he heard about Reggie.

He made his way through the bloody street, trying his hardest to not bring attention to himself.

The town was completely destroyed.

As he passed a broken shop, he saw Fenwick through the window overtaking a black robed wizard with a marked mask...

Steel eyes zeroed in on the pair as witches and wizards grouped together and terrified Muggles ran around and past him.

He didn't recognise it. He'd never seen that mask or at the very least didn't recall seeing it before.

Without conscious thought, he made his way towards the tall blond and the now kneeling Death Eater. His whole focus on the pair alone. As he approached them, he realised that the masked wizard was pleading for his life. Benjy's reply was lost in the noise however when a woman nearby let loose a blood curdling scream. Instinct told him to help her, to turn around and find her and do what he could... but he didn't. He physically couldn't. The whole of his being was now centred on his little brother's unknown fate.

_'Avada Kedav-'_

Sirius cursed Benjy from behind. The taller wizard crumbled to the ground and the Death Eater, shocked at the surprising turn of events, was too stunned to run away. He took advantage of the fact.

Guilt, disgust and self-loathing would later weigh him down but in that moment only one thing ruled his thoughts and it surpassed all logic of right and wrong.

He needed to know if Reggie was still alive.

Sirius turned his wand on the kneeling wizard.

_'Crucio!'_

The Death Eater screamed and after an eternity, Sirius lifted the spell. As the wizard cried and shook from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse Sirius pulled off the wizards mask.

Only to be met by a familiar face.

He knew this man. He'd been a childhood playmate. Back when he'd been young enough to resolve himself to be the best Black heir he could possibly be and not see any wrong in it.

'Si-rius,' gasped Dimitri Wilkes.

_'-Crucio!'_

Echoing screams drowned out the battle around them. He lifted the spell.

'Is Reggie alive?!'

The wizard at his feet cried. Heart pounding in his chest, Sirius' hands shook as he kicked the begging wizard.

'Is Reggie alive?!' he asked again.

'W-what?' Dimitri asked. His pain pushed aside by his momentary confusion.

'Is Reggie still alive?!'

The whimpering wizard didn't reply but gave him a calculated look that he did not like. Sirius lifted his wand.

'No! Please!' cried Wilkes, his hands out, placating and pleading. 'No! Please stop! I'll tell you!' he gasped. 'He's a-alive! I-I swear it! The D-ark Lord's given h-im a-a mission!'

Sirius raised his wand. Dimitri raised his arms, covering his face. Pathetically attempting to shield himself. 'Please Sirius! I don't know what! Please!'

A pungent smell hit him then. Sirius looked down just in time to see a stream of piss escape from under black robes.

Wilkes had never been cut out for war. Slytherins were cunning and driven, but not all of them were evil, blood purists. Some were cowards and only cared for themselves.

The kid he remembered was always sly and sneaky. The consummate survivor who watched over his own arse to make damn sure he always came out on top.

The wizard before him may have been many things but a pure blood elitist was definitely not one of them.

Sirius stared at the crying wizard, more than willing to let him leave - but he couldn't. Because underneath it all, Dimitri Wilkes was still here. Fighting. Masked and branded.

Intelligence gathered said that he'd had to have killed to receive the Dark Mark. That's nothing to say of what he'd had to do in order to reach such a high rank. Marked masks only belonged to Voldemort's inner circle after all.

No one was simply handed a position of power without paying their dues and Dimitri … he loved his arse far too much. He wasn't an elitist by any means but to save his own skin...? Dimitri would do anything. He'd definitely kill.

These things ran through his mind in the blink of an eye. Making up his mind, Sirius pointed his wand at his old friend. Without a hint of remorse he hissed out his curse.

_'Obliviate!'_

The wizard crumpled to the ash strewn, blood soaked and piss covered floor. As he made his way out the shop he stopped besides Benjy's body. He took both his and Dimitri's wand and threw them to the back of the shop.

Both wizards would be disarmed. Both had equal chance. What happened after he left was up to the two blokes.

The moment he reached the threshold, he heard Benjy begin to stir.

Sirius stuck to shadowy corners as he made his way away from the centre of town. Apparation was usually pointless at this time. Padfoot was useless too. All animals were rounded up, assumed Animagi until proven otherwise.

Sirius paced himself, fighting the urge to flee and drawing attention to himself.

Moans and pleading cries rang out over the crackling of still burning fires.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the distance. Strictly avoiding the scattered bodies surrounding him. Hating the sudden stillness that took over.

The sounds of battle always gave way to this muted aftermath.

Sirius kept walking, ignoring all those crying out for him. Looking forward as he walked past the dead and slowly dying. Fighting the urge to turn each fallen, black robed wizard. Just to be sure.

More Aurors had arrived during his interrogation. Obliviators as well, Dorcas amongst them. Dishevelled as she was, it was obvious she had participated in battle, whereas her colleagues clearly hadn't. The dark-skinned woman started to yell at a sour looking man. She gestured at several dazed and frightened Muggles, to which the wizard glared. And it was that which said it all.

Wizards like him were the reason this war was never ending. Sirius had an overwhelming urge to curse him.

He couldn't however. Protocol. Order members were to leave the instant the battle was won or lost, long before the Ministry arrived.

Working independently as a secret society would've been pointless if the Order was discovered. As it was, it was almost too weird that the same group of people always stumbled into battles.

The Ministry definitely suspected something but they didn't know what. Nor did they try too hard to find out who and what the Order was. Why would they? They were fighting alongside them, against the threat that was Voldemort. The enemy of my enemy and all that.

Healers were now scattered about as well, working on severely injured Death Eaters, Muggles and Wizards alike. Doing what they could and sparing those they couldn't.

Caradoc wouldn't be amongst them.

The wizard was strong in his resolve that fighters were more important that civilians. The thin man believed in helping when and where he could but he strongly believed in aiding the Order members first.

He supposed it made sense. He also knew the piece of shit Ministry would find a way to help these people. Dorcas was a high ranking Unspeakable, she'd make damn sure to help... but it was hard to leave sometimes.

Sirius turned a corner and came across a sobbing woman on her knees, attacking a pile of rocks and burning wood.

From within the rubble he could hear the faint sound of a kid crying. The Muggle mum struggling to lift a heavy bit of concrete with bleeding hands.

Caradoc's voice echoed in his head.

'Fighting Voldemort is more important than helping an injured child,' he'd once said. 'In defeating him, hundreds of children will be safe. And we won't be able to fight him if our members start dying off or get captured. The Order must come first.'

Sirius closed his eyes as he walked past.

He had to leave.

He had to-

Sirius skid to a stop, slipping on bloody cobblestone as he did. His leg twisted from underneath him and a sharp pain radiated out from his ankle. Turning towards the mother, he pushed the frantic woman back. Only to have her fight him off with every move.

Frustrated at her and anxious as the level of activity around them grew, he pushed her to the ground. Before she could bounce back he raised his wand.

Within seconds, the concrete wall shifted and rippled. An explosion of feathers settled around them. A small, blond head popped up from the mass. Crying and shaking, scratched and a bit worse for wear, he watched as the lad stood and ran to his mum. Mother and child collided.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you,' cried the woman as she rocked her child back and forth. Heavy tears washing away ash and soot.

He left soon after.

As more Aurors arrived and as Ministry officials swarmed the unknown town, he Apparated home. Throat burning from all the smoke, his ankle sore, his cheek stinging he walked up the wooded path. Cracks of Apparation echoed around him, sluggish footsteps followed behind. Voices spoke in muted tones ahead of him.

Sluggish and whispers were good. Running and panicked meant danger and life-threatening things.

Sirius didn't know when he reached his cabin. Time seemed to slow and yet all at once speed up. All too soon, the Marauder found himself sat at the head of his dining table surrounded by Order members, all in different states of disarray.

The long haired wizard remained quiet as heated voices blended into each other. Angry exclamations mutated into frustrated tones. Every so often, Moody's grisly voice overtook them all.

After an hour had come and gone, Dumbledore appeared and the process repeated itself. Albeit more organized and calm. No doubt influenced by the Headmaster's presence.

Reports were given. Injuries reported. Orders mandated... Nothing changed.

Same old bullshit.

Same fucking results.

Now all that was left was a cheerful pep-talk.

'I doubt Voldemort will attack again so soon,' Dumbledore began. 'This was the seventh battle of the night. I do not believe he will attack so soon again. For the remainder of the week, I feel he will maintain peace. This was not so much a series of attacks as it was a show of power. He is in control. Coordinated and prepared. More so than the Ministry. Now both he and the Ministry know this. I fear that open warfare has now truly begun... Rest and heal.'

Sirius sniffed as the powerful wizard nodded at them all and left the room, Mad-Eye and Caradoc beside him.

Last he heard, the war had already been brought out into the open.

Still, he hoped it had only been said for dramatic effect. He wasn't so sure he believed it either way...

But, if what was said was true, then this had been the bloodiest day to date and things were going to get worse.

His chest tightened at the thought.

Noises increased in volume. Stormy eyes ran the length of the room, unconsciously scanning each face.

His search became increasingly frantic however, when he didn't spot a familiar face.

_Where was James...?_

He turned to Peter and then Remus, who instinctively raised his head and stared straight at him. The lanky werewolf shook his head and amber eyes flicked upwards.

Sirius released a breath he'd unknowingly held.

He looked at the room again as a lightly shaking hand brushed back his fringe. Sirius began to feel rather stupid as his panic began to fade. There was no sign of dark, red hair either. That, he grudgingly admitted to himself, should have been the first sign that they were alive and well. No doubt the pair was fucking away the shit feelings only war and near death experiences could bring.

Sirius rubbed the tender area at the top of his head. The dull ache was quickly becoming a painful throb. He'd have to see Caradoc soon. He'd have to see him anyway because of mandatory check-ups after battle, but still. His head was really starting to hurt.

The corner of his mouth curved upwards and his lips twitched when a feminine whimper reached his sensitive ears. Jamie boy had no aches to complain about if the faint noises he could hear were anything to go by. Evans too was clearly more than okay.

His best mate's girl or not, he'd have to be a dickless son of a bitch or gay as fuck to deny that Evans' breathy moans and pleading gasps weren't dead sexy and enticing as hell. He'd eat his own wand before ever saying it out loud though.

He was a healthy, straight bloke. It was only natural for him to like the sound of a moaning woman. Besides, it was about that time that hormones began to kick in, demanding a form of release to all the tension and pent up frustration that only a battle could bring.

Sex and war were, he'd learned, synonymous with each other.

He couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was the need for validation that yes you had survived, or the urgency to escape or both that had sex and violence going hand in hand.

When it came to war, physical, emotional and undefined connections became important and vital.

His head shot up.

Pale eyes searching each face. His stomach twisted painfully. And then he stood.

'Where's Marley?' he asked no one in particular, not expecting an answer.

From his right, Edgar answered. 'She got hit with a stray spe...'

Sirius didn't wait for the ginger to finish. Pushing away or bumping into Order members as he did, Sirius quickly made his way towards the small hospital under the stairs.

The smell of burned flesh and smoke hit him instantly. His stomach rolled and he had to fight down the urge to gag. Ignoring his natural reaction to the stench, he scanned the tiny ward.

She was easy to spot as the hospital station was relatively empty - thank fuck. Only four beds were occupied. Frank, still unconscious, lay on the bed nearest Caradoc's desk. Alice was sat beside him, holding his hand, worry etched on her brow.

Sturgis lay in another cot, his body shaking every so often. Tilny tutted as she wiped at his brow with a wet flannel.

On the third bed, facing Dearborn's desk lay Emmeline. Brown hair singed, the left side of her face and neck red and swollen. Blisters scattered across her shiny flesh.

He found Marley at the farthest bed. Sat beside the glass doors, she was next to one of the Prewett twins. A pale and dainty hand holding a larger freckled one as Dilny worked on the wizard's bloody thigh. Relief ran through him when his eyes set on her as he released a shuddering breath.

Bottom lip split, dry blood rimmed one of her nostrils, a faint bruise tinted her cheekbone and she was paler than usual... but she was still a stunning sight to see. Bright eyes turned to him and grew wide. After a moment of recognition, anxious blue eyes ran down the length of him.

He shook his head before nodding at her bandaged right leg. She replied with a shrug and a sad smile.

The ginger twisted violently in his cot and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

Marley's focus shifted from him to the Prewett twin as the ginger began thrashing around. Flushed and sweating, head thrown back, jaw clenched, neck tendons taught... he really hoped it wasn't Fabian.

Sirius didn't know what had happened to the poor bloke, but the pool of blood was steadily growing.

He knew Caradoc had trained her at healing minor to moderate wounds but it was easy to forget Dilny's skill at the sight of bright, red blood.

The little elf was only cleaning the wound he saw, she wasn't closing it like she should have.

Why she hadn't soon became clear.

'Dilny has it Mister Twin Sir!' yelled Dilny, seconds before pulling out a bloody piece of shrapnel from within his thigh.

Banishing it, she wasted no time in staunching the blood and closing the wound.

Marley, it turns out, had been hit with a bone shattering curse. Caradoc had mended her shin in seconds.

No longer needed by the now sedated twin, Marley hobbled her way out of the Silenced Section on crutches.

'Alright?' she asked as she neared him. Her voice soft and sweet.

Sirius nodded. 'Yeah. You?'

'I'll be alright-'

To his left, Alice shushed them. Scowling as she did. The pair slowly made their way out the ward.

Back at the entrance, he took in her lovely features. Her deep blue eyes staring into his own.

She usually left after a battle. In all of their history, he'd never asked her to stay. Had never welcomed her to.

Now that she was here at his door, preparing to leave, Sirius didn't like the thought of her not being within reach.

He walked towards her.

Without warning or permission, he placed his hands around her back and behind her knees, lifting her off the floor. Her hands automatically found their place around his neck. With a kiss to her temple, he made his way up the stairs.

He could've Apparated them to his bedroom, yet he didn't. Why he hadn't, Sirius didn't know and didn't question his decision either.

Up a flight of stairs, the sounds of arguments dimmed. He passed James' room and just because he could, willed the door to open.

Marley breathed a laugh and the corner of his lips curled when Evans squealed and Prongs yelled some incoherent shit at him.

A final set of stairs and double doors leading to his bedroom opened before him. Marley continued to cling to him.

Her head on his shoulder was a welcome weight and her warm presence reassuring.

With great reluctance, he skipped the bed and headed straight to his bathroom.

He settled Marley down on his toilet, a sad smile on her lips.

'I almost didn't recognise you,' she said quietly. 'What with all that dirt.'

Sirius sat on the edge of his tub, opposite her. Grey eyes downcast, staring at his dirty hands and intertwined fingers. Pain filled screams ringing in his head.

'Yeah,' he muttered, 'I didn't either.'


	6. Acceptance

Much love to Dave and his awesome skills. Were it not for him, this whole process wouldn't be half as fun.

* * *

**Silver**

Acceptance

* * *

'I love this song! It just - I don't know, it just speaks to me, you know? Like yes, our society's uniformity has been ingrained into us and we, as the middle class, have accepted it with little to no protest! It _completely_ speaks of a populace that no longer places importance on individuality and a sense of self but rather _romanticises_ Big Brother! It's like 'Oh, you want to be an artist? Alright. That's nice. Now go get an office job or better yet! Become a drone for the gover-'

_Bra burning bitch,_ thought Sirius with a sip of his whiskey. Don't get him wrong, he was all for freely hanging tits but the talking.

Fucking hell, _The Talking._

He just wanted to shag the tits. Not talk to them. Was that too much to ask for?

_Hippie Bitch._

'Damn educated females,' he grumbled to himself.

Women never should've been allowed to read, then feminism wouldn't have been a thing. Fucking equality shit meant he had to sit and listen to the tits bitch. He didn't know where she got off complaining about men being sexist pigs as she wasn't pleasant herself. Really, all her talking was unattractive.

She was lucky he wanted to shag her otherwise he wouldn't have given her the time of day. He was quickly rethinking the day's game plan.

He should have just gone to London.

But no, he'd just had to go for a fucking local rather than a tourist. He'd wanted a _challenge._ Not easy prey like tourists. They wanted to go for the whole British experience after all.

To top off his magnificent plan, his dumb arse had to visit a university town. Fucking _brilliant_ move that was.

_'...minisce about the days of ol-'_ sang Hippie Bitch, bobbing her head along to the tune.

Oh Merlin she needed to shut the fuck up.

It was just a bloody song, nothing more and no you stupid bitch it most certainly was not about you. It wasn't even a good song. Bloody passable at best.

Sirius took another sip, grey eyes staring at the still talking bird. Her hands waving around as she continued to explain how this song expressed the world's misogynistic views. Yet, this song was about her.

_And what the fuck did misogynistic mean?_

He reached for a fag as Hippie Bitch continued her opinionated speech about the aristocracy and the Muggle ministry and something about how her knickers were bunched up her arse he was sure. Stupid bird needed to have them swiftly removed. He'd gladly offer her his services if she promised to shut her gob for the rest of the bloody night.

He inhaled as his eyes scanned the Muggle pub, staring at all the other lovely choices surrounding him. A few of said lovely choices smiled right back.

_Why was he still chatting up Hippie Bitch?_

Sirius swept his fringe back as stormy eyes returned to the bird. His eyes automatically fell on her soft and full lips. He blinked and returned his focus to her dull, brown eyes. He found her smiling at him expectantly.

'Ha!' He said with a nod of his head and a forced smile. 'Yeah. Too right!'

Hippie Bitch's smile grew and she continued to attack him with her long winded and pointless opinions.

With a deep breath, Sirius eyed the clock above the bar.

'Fuck,' he swore under his breath, drinking the rest of his whiskey in one go.

It was gone five and there was an Order meeting in an hour. Which meant that he'd spent three hours with the Hippie Bitch.

_Three hours and she still had her clothes on._

He was slipping.

The pretty blonde stopped mid word. '-Pardon?'

Sirius stared at the gorgeous blonde with big tits, and black rimmed glasses. Her beautifully plump lips parted. He really did want to see how soft they were.

He was keenly aware of the time though.

Sirius cleared his throat, knowing damn well that these past three hours of hard work were about to go to hell. 'I asked if you'd care to shag?'

The blonde's mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide. 'What?'

'I have work in an hour,' he said with a shrug. 'You're here. I'm here. Figured what better way than to... exclaim our freedom and... express our... individuality than with a quick shag in the loo?'

The Hippie Bitch's cheeks flushed red as her glare began to form. Her hands closed tightly around her still full pint.

'How fucking _DARE_ you?!' she asked unnecessarily loudly.

Good thing the music stopped just then. Who knows if he'd have been able to hear her otherwise? It also helped that half the pub went quiet. He looked around with a tight smile. Several university students stared back.

Smile frozen in place he tried to soothe her as best he could. 'Alright, calm down. Don't make a scene. People are beginning to stare and your nose is shiny. You don't want to be seen unless you look your best do you?'

Hippie Bitch growled, actually fucking growled.

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

'No need for that love. Gimme a few and I'll turn that growl into a purr,' he said with a wink and a smirk.

'Who the hell do you think you are?!'

'The aristocracy.'

Technically, he wasn't lying.

The angry tirade that followed quickly became background noise. Her hands once again waving about.

Sirius reached for Hippie Bitch's pint as her shrill voice got louder and angrier. He began drinking it as more people began to stare.

A dark shadow fell over him. Hippie Bitch stopped talking. Her eyes wide as her mouth fell open. An odd look fell over her face.

The back of his neck prickled. His heart beat faster. His shoulders stiffened. His hand itched and he wanted nothing more than to flick his wrist and have his wand fall into his palm.

He lowered the pint and turned to the figure standing to his left.

He raised his eyebrows as the side of his mouth began to curve upwards. He hadn't seen her in here before and he was damn sure he would've spotted her right away. The new bird must've been sat behind him.

Pale, creamy skin and shoulder length black hair. Petite, tits big enough to be a proper handful. Pentagrams dangled from her neck alongside a spiked collar. A pierced eyebrow, nose and lower lip. Black lipstick hid thin lips. Black eye shadow circled her eyes. Her left arm was heavily tattooed. The idea of getting his own sparked in his mind again.

The new bird stared back. Grey eyes, darker than his own, ran the length of him. Over his hair, down his face, to his Sex Pistols band shirt and scuffed boots.

'I'm Domina,' she said, completely ignoring Hippie Bitch.

He smiled wider when the blonde opposite him gave an indignant gasp.

'Dave.'

Hippie Bitch slammed her fist into the table. He could feel her glare burning through him.

'You told me your name was James!'

Sirius didn't take his eyes off the other bird as he stood. 'I lied.'

Painted black lips smirked and pale eyes sparkled. 'Are you lying to me too?'

Sirius stared down at her. She just managed to fit under his chin. Grey eyes focused on her small and tight black shirt. He thought he saw the tell-tale sign of a nipple piercing.

'Does it matter?' he asked taking a step towards her.

'Not really,' she murmured, stepping closer as well. 'How about that shag then? Do I get the same offer?'

Soft, perky breasts pressed against his chest. There was a piercing. He felt himself begin to harden.

He reached for her hand and without a word led her to the back of the crowded pub. Behind them, the blonde cursed and swore at them. Her high-pitched bitching drowned out by another song and the chatter around them.

He cut to the front of the queue, ignoring the people waiting to use the one toilet. Their protests and heckling of no concern to him.

A posh bloke tried to block him, no doubt to show off for the posh bitch behind him that he'd attempted to chat up, but a glare quickly silenced him.

No one stopped them from entering the loo, no one so much as tried.

No sooner did he shut the door behind him, was Domina on him.

She slammed into him. Her lips on his. Warm hands reached into his jeans and began palming his hardened length.

They clawed at each other, each battling for dominance. In the end, he gave in.

The petite girl grabbed him by his jacket and pushed him onto the toilet. Clothing was pushed aside and lifted as buttons became undone.

'On the pill,' Domina muttered, seconds before she lowered herself onto him.

His eyes slammed shut as her wet heat cradled and moved against him.

It wasn't gentle or caring. It was all lust and need. Primal and urgent. Fast and hard.

He sucked on a hardened nipple, flicking his tongue against the warm studs.

She moaned loudly, he sucked harder and she moved faster.

His need for release grew as she began fluttering around him. She rolled her hips and all sensations intensified, becoming too much.

A grunt and a breathy moan escaped them as she lifted herself off of him. Her nipple at eye level, he noticed a small bruise was beginning to form around the darkened flesh.

Breathing heavily, Sirius reluctantly stood and lazily worked on his zip and belt. He made his way to the sink intent on splashing some cool water onto his heated face, only to find it smudged with black lipstick.

Through the mirror, he saw Domina sort herself out as she sat on the toilet, completely uncaring of the fact that he was watching. He laughed. She was alright.

As she pissed, the tiny bird pulled out a joint from within her studded boot.

'What's your real name?' she asked, lighting it up.

Sirius finished wiping off the black lipstick and sweeping his hair away from his face, the Marauder turned to face the sitting girl.

'What's yours?'

Domina shook her head laughing. 'I asked you first.'

'And I asked second.'

Smiling, Sirius reached for the joint. 'What's it short for?'

She shook her head, a secretive smile directed at him.

As he smoked, Domina finished cleaning herself and walked towards him. He passed her joint back.

'Sorry about your neck,' she said around her held breath.

He laughed. Not because it was funny but because he felt damn good.

'Sorry about your nipple.'

Domina exhaled as she gave him a wicked little smile. 'Don't be.'

She handed him the joint and he inhaled. After handing it back, he reached for his fags. Like a gentleman he offered her one first. The greedy bitch took four.

Sirius nodded at her hands as he reached for his lighter.

'Don't forget to wash your hands,' he mumbled around his cigarette.

A cloud of smoke and a laugh followed him out the loo, a small smile pulling at his lips. It stayed with him as he made his way out and as he mounted Roxanne. It fell away the moment his cabin came into view.

He lingered beside Roxanne's shed, staring at the fish inside his large pond, trying to prolong his entrance and avoid the inevitable meeting that wouldn't do a bloody thing to change a damn thing.

He was beginning to doubt anything could.

Since that night two weeks ago, Voldemort had lain low and stayed quiet. Or as quiet as a piece of shit psychopath could be.

Only a handful of Death Eater murders had occurred since that day. Suspected Death Eater attacks anyway. The Ministry couldn't be sure as to confirm and label them the work of Voldemort's followers as no Dark Mark had appeared above them. Questionable doubt aside, Dumbledore insisted they'd been the work of Voldemort.

The silence had everyone's teeth on edge and people's nerves were shot to hell.

He was starting to get a bit worried himself, he hated to admit.

His worry didn't lessen any at the fact that the arsehole had his sights set on his best mate. After all, it was a well-known fact that having Voldemort know you by name wasn't exactly a good thing.

Around him, the woods slowly came alive as cracks rang out and scampering creatures either ran from or investigated the unfamiliar sounds. He knew what had caused the sounds, but his heart still beat a little bit faster.

Faint and familiar voices called out greetings. Their distant calls surrounded him but with no real point of origin. They drifted over him and his heart rate slowed.

Reluctantly, he made his way inside.

With the exception of a few missing Order members, his cabin was full. Small talk was made by a few, serious topics were discussed by most as they waited for Dumbledore to arrive.

When he did, the following meeting was no different than the previous one. Or the one before that.

No progress was made and the only thing that changed were the missions.

As pairs marched into Moody's study like good little soldiers, the remaining Order members sat in wait. Throughout the waiting period he'd been talking to Wormtail, until the shorter wizard had been called in, alone.

The moment Pete walked out, he and Remus were called in.

'Scouting mission,' said Moody as he dropped a slip of parchment before them. 'Suspected Death Eater activity. Observe and watch. Standard protocols. Twelve hours, beginning at eight tonight.'

Remus quickly agreed. He simply nodded, not really bothered either way.

A mission was a mission and it was something to do. A vital part of war in its own simple way really. Besides, since Voldemort had decided to play Hide-and-Seek, the only thing the Order had been able to do was watch Death Eater's homes, while keeping an ear to the ground.

It was frustrating and it wasn't much of anything... but it was something.

He glared at the candle flames.

Somewhere, Voldemort was taking steps to guarantee that his grandiose illusions became a reality. All the while, the world sat in wait.

He turned back to Moody who was currently giving his usual speech about privacy and protocols and expectations. He pretended to listen but really he just sat and waited, because that's what war was.

It was waiting for an unknown outcome and hoping to win.

It was old men talking and young men dying.

It was utter bollocks.

To his right, Remus stood. He followed his lead and together they left, Mad-Eye's last orders ringing in his ears as the study door shut behind him.

'Keep quiet and don't talk about your mission.'

He and Remus parted ways soon after. Dorcas had just arrived and like a werewolf in heat, Remus had made his way towards her. Sirius had walked past the shorter witch, intent on a smoke. Outside, stood by the pond, he found Wormtail.

'Hey Pete.'

The blond wizard didn't reply. Twice more he called out to him and nothing. Stood next to him as he was, Wormtail may as well have been an ocean away. Sirius bumped Peter's shoulder with his own and the younger bloke jumped.

'Hey,' he said soothingly, the smile falling off his face. 'It's just me. It's alright mate.'

Wormtail turned wild eyes on him, looking right through him. 'Pete?'

The blond blinked and after a second released a shaky laugh.

'Hey Padfoot,' he mumbled, staring at the murky waters.

The question _Are you alright?_ was on the tip of his tongue, but this was Pete and he wasn't going to insult his friend with stupid questions.

He brushed his fringe back, looking at the darkened woods around them, struggling with what to say. Beside him, Pete cleared his throat.

'Right. That's it then. I've got to go and meet the Prewetts in forty minutes. Something about a bird in protective custody.'

Wide, terrified eyes turned to him.

_Keep quiet and don't talk about your mission._

The corner of his mouth lifted. 'I'm to watch a suspected Death Eater hideout with Moony.'

'Oh.'

Sirius nodded at the shorter wizard. 'Yeah... I'll see you when you get back, alright? We'll go for a pint or something.'

Wormtail nodded. His mop of hair barely covered his downcast eyes, but not his quivering lower lip.

It was no secret that Peter was afraid.

Seen as a weak member, he was rarely given dangerous missions. Rather, his skill lay in information gathering. The whole of the Order revelled at his uncanny ability to gather key information. No one, with the exception of the Marauders, Lily and Caradoc knew the secret of his success.

No, Peter was not valued as a member but he knew that would change.

Pete had a good heart. He was a great best mate and Sirius knew the younger wizard would one day surprise them all. He was tougher than he looked.

Had it not been for Remus' insistence that he and James be friends with their other dorm mate, he would have never known himself.

Now, he couldn't imagine a life without the rat Animagus. He completed his motley crew of friends. He wasn't powerful or skilled, but he was brave. Any bloke who faced his fear on a daily basis was. People only saw him crying and whimpering, but no one mentioned his constant presence in the frontlines or his uncanny ability to remain unseen.

Peter had his own skills. He was an important member in this war and no one knew it. Sirius suspected the younger wizard didn't realise it himself.

With a wave and mumbled goodbye, Pete reached into his pocket and pulled out a red feather. In a flash, the bloke was gone and Sirius was left with his thoughts feeling useless. It didn't last long. Within a minute, the sound of laughter reached him.

The smell of roses engulfed him and a kiss was placed on his stubbly cheek, a warm hand encircled his. Beside her, a smiling Lily appeared. Her hand holding on to James'. Green, twinkling eyes settled on them as Marley rested her head on him.

James gave him a look. 'Alright?'

He opened his mouth. Fully intent on telling him about Pete. The bloke clearly needed help. The last thing he wanted was for Pete to turn into Benjy, or worse.

'Mate ... I was just talk-,'

'What's that on your neck?' interrupted Marlene.

Annoyance flashed through him. 'That,' he said pulling his hand away, 'is none of your business.'

'You're still...? Even after-,'

He laughed at her disbelieving tone, but there was no humour in it. Shaking his head, reaching for his pack and lighter, 'You just spent the night love. Stop acting like I proposed.'

The group had gone quiet.

He could feel her stare on him. Pleading for something that he refused to give. Perhaps an admission that her feelings were finally being returned. Or maybe a confirmation that this, whatever it was that they had, had reached a new level of intimacy.

Unfortunately for her, she wasn't going to get it.

He didn't feel what she felt. And no amount of pushing was going to change that.

He could still feel her eyes on him and it was starting to piss him off.

He turned to her, glaring right back. _'What?!'_

'Sirius!' hissed Evans, as James warned, 'Pads.'

Marley's beautiful, blue eyes flashed. Her mouth grew thin, and she grew rigid as her right hand twitched. But Sirius wasn't bothered. Marley had never been one to make a scene, she'd say or do fuck all. Like always.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Whatever she'd wanted to say remained unsaid as the blonde turned and walked into the woods. The crack of Apparation ringing soon after.

A stab of guilt hit him, which he quickly ignored.

She'd get over it.

Since that night she slept over, Marley had become insufferable. Constantly calling on him. Always trying to be around. Doing every possible thing to get him to see how good they were together... she'd quickly gotten on his nerves.

He'd had regrets over his decision to have her stay the very next morning. Now, he was really beginning to rethink their whole arrangement.

He'd been a prick to her since. Sirius knew it was unfair but because of Marley's constant pushing, he couldn't be arsed being nice about it anymore.

That still didn't warrant the slap Evans gave him.

His face reared back and white spots erupted before his eyes.

'What the hell is your problem?' spat the petite red head, green eyes blazing. 'Who the hell do you think you are to treat her that way?!'

He didn't reply. Just glared right back. Defiant and stubborn to the last, he would never admit that the slap was relatively justified.

'Lily!'

'And you!' hissed the witch, turning to his messy haired best mate. 'Why can't you try and control him?!'

'Because it's not his fucking place and he knows it, why don't you try and learn yours?'

Evans wand tip flared. 'She's my friend!'

'It's my business!'

She didn't reply. Just stared him down. Then she nodded.

The witch shook her head laughing. 'One of three things happen to arseholes like you Sirius. They either lose the one good thing they had and don't realise it until it's too late or they grow old and pathetic. Drunk half the time, a shut in loser that can only talk about the good old days! Or they meet a girl who they don't deserve. Mark my words Sirius!'

Sirius glared at the retreating red head's back. 'Stupid bitch.'

A blow struck him in the corner of his mouth. The world spun, his knees buckled and he fell.

He glared up at James who stared down at him. Sirius wiped at the corner of his lip, tasting blood.

'Fucking prick,' he muttered, spitting out blood as he stood.

James, completely unrepentant flicked his fingers and Sirius' pack of fags flew into his waiting hand.

'Shut the fuck up,' he said, 'You deserved it. And not cos of Lily.'

'Still,' grumbled Sirius, accepting the kind offer of one of his cigarettes. 'Didn't you quit?'

'Yes.'

'I'll tell,' he threatened.

James shrugged. 'Go ahead. I don't give a damn if Lily gets pissed off. I've more pressing matters to deal with.'

They continued to smoke, side by side, occasionally saying a few words to departing Order members. Neither spoke until the Headmaster himself bade them goodnight, the echoing crack of Apparation successfully breaking their amicable silence.

James handed him another smoke, taking a new one himself.

'What do you think he wants with Lily?' asked James as he lit his fag. 'She's Muggleborn. Not a single drop of magical blood in her family before her and yet... he offered her a position of high rank.'

Sirius pocketed his lighter as he spoke. 'It's Voldemort mate. Nothing he does makes sense.'

'It's the third time he's asked Sirius.'

He took a drag to prolong his answer. He didn't know what to say. Nothing he said would help.

'So what?' he finally said. 'It's the third for you, the second time for Alice and Frank. The twelfth time for Dorcas, probably. The eighth for Remus. Some of us only had the privilege once.'

'Only reason he asked you once is because he got your brother soon after.'

He didn't say anything at that. It was true. Voldemort already had a Black on his ranks. It appeared that the prick didn't feel inclined to gain another.

Why he'd only been offered a position once still bothered him though, but he'd never put his fears and suspicions into words.

The breeze shifted and the combined smells of blood, dirt and wild beast hit him. A sense of familiarity and loyalty tightened his chest. The once welcomed pull of pack, brought on by the approaching full moon, no longer as inviting. Now it just hurt.

He absentmindedly rubbed at the hollow ache in his chest. From the corner of his eye, he saw James do the same. Both black-haired Marauders turned to face the approaching werewolf.

'Him and Bellatrix must've told them you're too headstrong mate, that's all,' said Remus looking at him. Luminous, amber eyes turned to James, 'Your bloodline is old and you're a powerful lot. Not to mention your skill in battle. Reckon he just wants you mate. By offering Lily a position he must think you'll fall in line to protect her, the stupid arse. Either way, there's no point in worrying about it. You won't get any answers. You shan't change a thing and you sure as hell can't ask can you?'

James ran his hand through his hair causing it to stand on end, his jaw clenched.

'Wha-,' he shook his head frowning, staring hard at the moss covered ground. 'What if it's something to do with Sna-,'

'-With Snivellus?!' interrupted Sirius through choking laughter.

Beside him, Remus shook his head. 'Prongs.'

James looked up, his expression defiant.

'What?' he snapped.

'You're being a paranoid twat and a fucking idiot.'

Sirius nodded. 'No more than usual though.'

The pair ignored him.

'I've told you what I saw!' he said in a harsh whisper. Hazel eyes running over the shadowed trees and surrounding woods.

Sirius bit his lip, casually studying the grounds behind them. Listening very carefully for any signs of shallow breaths or light footsteps as Remus spoke.

'We know,' Moony said quietly. 'Which, if you think about it, should mean that rather than worried, you should be grateful.'

Sirius' eyebrows shot upwards. Lips parted as he stared at the lanky werewolf. 'Grateful?!'

The long-haired Marauder shook his head. It was no secret that he hated Snivellus. He didn't trust him. As far as he was concerned, the twat was a worthless piece of shit and wasn't to be trusted.

But even he knew that when it came to Evans, that Snape wouldn't ever hurt her. Much less have her, a well-known Muggleborn, be within arm's reach of Voldemort. The redhead and greasy tosser had been best mates once upon a time. He doubted the bastard would want her killed, especially if the prick had injured another Death Eater for her.

No, Snivellus had nothing to do with Voldemort's obsession with Evans. He'd go as far as to say that she was safe with the idiot. He'd never admit it out loud though.

Still... to say James should be grateful...

'Grateful is too strong a word mate,' he said to the taller wizard.

'He saved her life.'

'We don't know that,' Sirius reasoned, shaking his head. 'For all we know, it could have as easily been a misfire.'

'I suppose. Anything's possible...' Remus conceded to the point, nodding. 'Yeah alright. I just... couldn't think of a better word. He should still be grateful though.'

_I guess._ 'Fair enough.'

'My point is... if you saw Snape attacking another Death Eater, whose wand was aimed at Lily's back - then it can't be because of Snape.'

'Yeah Prongs,' he agreed. 'Even I think your theory's mad. Moony's probably right. You're both powerful and he wants that power for his own. That's all.' He took a drag of his fag and as an afterthought, 'Fuck Snivellus.'

James didn't reply, just kept quiet as he smoked. The rustling of leaves and the sounds of the forest, both soothing and comforting, broke the silence that would have otherwise been present. He'd finished his fag and had been midway through another when his best mate finally spoke.

'Lily's right you know?' James said quietly. 'One day Remus, you're gonna find a girl who won't take your shit or let you chase her away... and you'll fall for a girl you don't deserve Padfoot and she won't look at you twice... Maybe then you'll both fucking understand.'

The stag Animagus walked away then. Heading towards the cabin with steady and measured steps, a trail of smoke following in his wake.

Sirius blinked. 'Arsehole took my fags.'

Remus chuckled around a cloud of exhaled smoke, still eyeing their messy haired friend. 'Whatever you do mate, don't ruin his dramatic exit.'

'Nah. Fuck that.'

He opened his mouth to call out but Remus stopped him.

'Pads.'

Shutting his mouth, he glared at James' back. Flipping him off, 'Dickhead.'

He and Remus continued to watch the cabin, long after James had gone inside. The pair sharing a fag between them.

Remus nodded at the cabin. 'He's starting to act a bit like Benjy.'

He took a drag. 'He's just scared and looking for an outlet to place blame. He'll be alright.'

'We're all scared,' Remus said. 'Even you. You're just too much of a coward to admit it.'

'Lies,' he hissed.

'Truth.'

Sirius sneered up at him. 'Slanderous beast.'

'No more than you,' he fired back.

Sirius dropped the fag, quickly vanishing it.

'He's terrified of losing Lily is all.' He raised his voice an octave. 'One day when you find your girl, you'll understand.'

'Yeah,' said Remus laughing, looking at his wristwatch. 'We'll see. We've another hour before the mission.'

Sirius nodded. 'Meet you back here in forty?'

'Alright,' answered the taller Marauder, 'I'm going to kip for a bit. Wake me up when you get back?'

'Yeah. Alright.'

'Cheers mate,' Remus said. The young werewolf turned to him, 'What are you going to do?'

Sirius smirked at that.

Moony shook his head, 'On the pull.'

His smile grew wider.

'Here,' Remus said taking off his watch and handing it to him. 'Keep an eye on it.'

'Will do.'

Sirius pocketed the watch as he made his way to the Apparation point. Seconds later, he found himself beside an overflowing bin.

He didn't stop to see if he'd been spotted. Didn't really care if he had. The possibility that he wasn't alone at the moment was very likely, he'd just Apparated into an alley behind a pub, on a Saturday night. People liked to shag and piss back here. He'd once had the unfortunate luck of having seen both happening at the same time.

Either way, Sirius didn't care if he'd been seen. Besides, they'd see much more soon enough.

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a spiked collar. The tag hanging from it, the shape of a bone, read Snuffles. He didn't hesitate putting it around his neck.

Putting Remus' watch on the pavement and focused his magic inward.

A tingling, glowing warmth grew from his centre and spread outwards. His skin crawled. His bones shifted. His senses heightened. Smells intensified. Sounds became sharper. The darkened alley shifted to grey tones. The pavement, cold beneath his padded feet.

Gasps and a small scream rang behind him as he gently picked up the watch with his mouth. Without a backwards glance, he left the alley and shocked Muggles behind. Sirius trotted through the familiar streets, hyper aware of his surroundings. Less than five minutes later, he arrived at his destination.

Padfoot dropped the watch before him, facing upwards. The clock face clear to see. With the watch perfectly positioned, he once again settled in as he sat behind a familiar set of bushes.

The facade of number twelve Grimmauld Place visible through them.

* * *

Lazy Sundays made Hermione sleepy.

Putting down _A History of Magic_, Hermione stretched. A soft moan escaped her closed lips before becoming a yawn. It was only a quarter to one in the afternoon.

She was actually tired and sleepy after half a day of doing nothing.

The curly haired witch stared at the clouds through an open window. Heat and suffocating humidity aside, the skies were dark grey. A promise of future rain to come.

Hermione licked her dry lips, thirst burning her throat. Cool fizzy drink in mind, Hermione stood, slipping her feet into beaded sandals.

'Some day you will find me, caught beneath the landslide,' Hermione muttered as she made her way downstairs. 'In a champagne supernova in the sky.'

The monotone and muffled sound of Hooky practicing his reading interrupting her singing. Every so often Batty corrected him slowly, her voice that of a person helping another with their pronunciation.

Deciding to forego a greeting, the young witch turned into the kitchen and reached for the fridge in search of Coke. There was only lemonade, bottled water and juice though. Which she didn't fancy.

The cupboard then, she could always just pop some ice in her glass. No joy though. When had they run out? Batty would know.

Heading towards the muffled voices of her housemates Hermione entered the sitting room.

Sat on opposite lounge chairs, Batty and Hooky where engrossed in their individual hobbies. The telly on for noise purposes only.

Hooky licked a finger, flipping a page. Pink, diamond studded, winged glasses glittered with his every move. Thin, grey lips moved as he read under his breath.

Batty's back was to her. Her tiny little head barely visible above the high winged back chair the older witch favoured. Hermione didn't need to step closer to see what she was doing. She already knew.

Batty, Hermione realised rather quickly, was obsessed with her Mokeskin pouch. The magic of it insulted her somehow. Apparently, as a world renowned scholar, Batty firmly believed that some magics were well within her scope of control. The pouch, by her reasoning, challenged her ability and knowledge. She wanted to break into it. Unfortunately for Batty and fortunately for her, the Mokeskin acted as it always did. With every spell aimed, every attempt to grab it, the pouch shrunk in size. She'd lost count of the many times, the bag had disappeared before her eyes because the elder woman had tried to grab it in a fit of frustration. It'd brought her hours of entertainment she had to admit.

'Fucking bollocksing piece of shite,' Batty shouted at the innocent bag. 'I hate you!'

Hermione bit back a smile. 'No luck then?'

'Piss off!'

She had to fight down a laugh. 'Do you know we're out of Coke?'

Batty's white hair shook side to side. 'Rat bastard over there drank the last.'

Hooky, completely unperturbed by the comment continued to read. His only reaction, an upwards glance and a brow raised before licking his finger and once again flipping the page. His fingernails where painted a hot pink colour. His book's title, _The Devil's Den._

The brunette hoped it wasn't one of those disgusting novels he'd suddenly become so fond of.

Hermione sighed, brown eyes running the length of the room. She really wanted a fizzy drink.

'Hooky can you get me my purse please?'

The elf didn't look up or stop his muttering as he snapped his fingers. With a pop, her bag bobbed in the air before her. A variety of muted colours and beaded, she'd fallen in love with it the instant she had set eyes on it. Knowing this, Batty hadn't hesitated on getting it for her. Though she'd grown to own a few possessions, this bag was her absolute favourite thing.

'Thank you,' she mumbled as she threw the strap across her left shoulder so that the drawstring purse dangled on her right thigh. 'Right. I'm going to the shop,' she announced, looking up. 'Do you guys want anything?'

Batty didn't turn to look at her and Hooky didn't so much as move but something in the air had shifted.

'You're going to the shop?' asked Batty slowly, not turning to look at her.

'Yes?' she replied just as slowly, confused and curious as to the odd vibe she was suddenly getting from the pair.

Hooky lifted his book so that it covered the whole of his head. His big, bat-like ears peeking from the corners.

'Alright,' said Batty. 'Would you... mind... getting a few things?'

'Sure.'

Hooky's ears twitched.

Her eyes moved from the elf to the back of Batty's white head. 'Is everything alri-'

'-Fine! Yeah! Just... trying to break into this bollocksing thing is all,' she said pointing at the Mokeskin pouch. 'Concentrating you know! Now, away with you! Leave us to do our very important things.'

Hermione stared at her a bit longer before shaking her head and leaving the room. She'd try and figure out what their problem was, but she had long given in to the inevitable fact that they were both beyond the scope of normal, logical understanding. She headed back towards the fridge where Batty kept her shopping lists.

Beside the Muggle list, held up by a magnet that read _'Well behaved women rarely make history',_ was Batty's magical shopping list. Unlike the Muggle one which consisted of household items, this list had nothing but potion ingredients. She read it and noted that the majority were for her potions: the ones she took for headaches, panic attacks and Vitamix.

She didn't take the Calming Draught as much as she used to, nor did she need it all that much but it was still a handy potion to have around. She took both lists and headed back.

As she neared the sitting room, hissing whispers could be heard.

Becoming increasingly frustrated with their behaviour, she walked into the room glaring.

'What is your problem?' she demanded, arms crossed. 'Why are you two acting so bloody odd?'

The pair started and it just annoyed her further.

'We're not!' exclaimed Batty.

'You're whispering,' she countered.

Batty, still not looking at her, waved a dismissive, liver-spotted hand. 'I was correcting Hooky's pronunciation... and explaining to him why colour was spelled wrong - Dozy Yanks - bastardising the English language, you know? Damn the lot... and such.'

'Right...' Hermione murmured, staring at Hooky. His face still hidden behind the novel. 'Hooky?'

'Y-yes?' squeaked the elf.

'Your book is upside down.'

'-Are you leaving or not? Cos Hooky needs to read. Hooky, read!'

The tiny elf jumped at her barking tone. Flipping the book back to its correct position, she saw his small cheeks redden. Hooky didn't look up all throughout.

_'-with a hea-ving bu-ssom, she stared at his en-gor-ged mem...'_

Hermione shook her head, covering her ears as she turned to leave. No matter how hard she complained to Batty about it, she did not stop him from reading those cheap and trashy romance novels.

'He likes them! It's his choice, don't try to change him!' Yelled Batty after her as she reached the door.

Reaching for her purse, she checked if she had enough to buy everything needed. Dumbledore's stipend was more than enough of course but she didn't know if she was carrying enough of both currency to get everything needed.

Once secure in her Galleon and quid situation, she pulled the front door open and was met with a slap to the face that was humidity.

'Damn weather,' she muttered staring up at the cloudy sky.

It really did look like it would rain soon.

As if reading her thoughts, Batty called out from her seat. 'Looks like it'll rain, best take a brolly!'

She turned back and took a step towards the cupboard under the stairs. She stopped, biting her lip. Though only a few steps away, it still felt like too much work.

She considered the dark clouds. It'd been like this for the past two days. Not a single drop had fallen though...

The young witch shook her head. Deciding against the hard and tedious three steps needed to reach the cupboard and grab the umbrella hanging on the inside of the door.

Once the door shut firmly behind her, she stood on the porch, dark eyes staring at the lists clutched in each hand. _Milk, eggs, bread, tomatoes, courgettes_... the Muggle list was twelve items alone. The magical list held ten. Lots of things to get. Thankfully, Batty had placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on her handbag.

Turning left down the empty street she made her way to the market. Her loose top and denim shorts confining in the heat. Her ponytail tickling the back of her neck as curls that'd sprung free began to stick to her sweating brow. The humidity really was suffocating.

_'-Someday you will find me,'_ she sang again.

That song had been stuck in her head all day and she'd seen no reason to fight it. So she sang and walked, smiling at those who called out to her. Enjoying the scenery and fresh scents of the flowers and trees that had invaded the village.

Godric's Hollow was absolutely charming.

The small village had become home. As difficult as her journey had been, she had to admit that she had grown fond of its inhabitants and simplicity. Country living wasn't so bad after all.

With its narrow roads and cottages, cobble stone streets and old streetlights, the small community moved at its own pace. Isolated as it was, the people of Godric's Hollow had their own set of rules. Hermione suspected that the International Statue of Secrecy was nothing more than a joke to the wizards of this village.

On more than one occasion, she had witnessed witches and wizards use magic. Out in the open, uncaring of being seen as if magic was no big secret. She'd asked Batty about this of course.

The older witch had simply shrugged. 'Godric's Hollow has existed for thousands of years Hermione. Muggles and Wizards have co-existed here from the very beginning. Surnames may have changed and families evolved, but about... eighty percent, I think? Of the people born here, will die here. Godric's Hollow looks after its own. Yes Muggles have seen magic, yes they know that some of us- with our cloaks and our owls and our _herbal syrups_ and sticks- that we're different. But they don't ask questions and we don't give them any answers. They just know they're safe and we do the best we can to protect them. If Tony Cox just happens to give that sickly Jones child with bad blood a replenishing potion every three months, we look the other way. In return, the Muggles don't talk to the outside world about the weird shit they witness on a daily basis. It's give and take and it suits us all just fine.'

Hermione hadn't known how to feel about that. The Muggleborn in her praised the approach to the village's cohabitation. The part of her that remained bitter couldn't help but think that trust was being given much too freely.

As for protecting the Muggles, 'A blanket Anti-Apparition ward surrounds the whole of village. My friend Phemmy brought the magical community together and organised it. Back when Voldemort was starting to grow in power and the Ministry was too stupid to act. If Death Eaters want to attack, they'll have to do it on foot.'

Another reason why Dumbledore had brought her here no doubt.

She kept walking, her mind slowly becoming void of serious topics.

Hermione crossed an old stone bridge, oblivious to the babbling brook beneath her, uncaring of the chirping birds and distant ringing church bells. '_And all the roads we have to walk are winding,'_ she sang softly as she focused on her feet. The lyrics replacing thought. '_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.'_

Instinctive and mechanical, her steps led her to the centre square where market day was in full swing.

Stalls with varying items stood end to end. Residents of the small town walked up and down looking and stopping to see what was being sold and offered.

Hermione, unrushed and distracted, took her time. Occasionally stopped to chat with the stall owners as she purchased her items. In the end, she found everything on the Muggle list except the eggs and milk. Those she really would have to go to the shop for.

She took the longest time with a teenage girl who sold handmade, hemp bracelets. Hermione had always enjoyed them, even in her own time, but had never gotten around to owning one. It hadn't been too hard a decision to get one, the difficult choice had been picking one out.

'Did you do these on your own?' she asked the blushing teenage girl, who nodded.

Hermione smiled at the redhead with round cheeks and laughing eyes. 'They're very pretty, how much?'

'50p?' the teen answered meekly.

Hermione nodded. The girl was severely under-pricing them. She must not have known the value of her craft because her work was real-

'Oh,' Hermione said as a beaded bracelet caught her eye. Hidden amongst all the black, brown and Rastafarian patterns, she saw a familiar and unique bit of glass.

Black and loosely braided, the bracelet itself wasn't unique in its pattern. It was quite common in fact, going by the girl's repeated use of it, but the river glass hanging from the two loose ends made it absolutely gorgeous.

Deep turquoise, rough and warm to the touch, clear marbling glinted back at her as the glass caught whatever bit of light it could. Come night time that light would shift and an inner glow would shine from it.

That wasn't a regular, everyday river glass. It was exclusively found in the Great Lake of Hogwarts. Used by the Merpeople, the stones were hard to find as they were hoarded by the underwater beings. It was rumoured that the stones were used to see at night.

Crystal clear in the mornings, the more light it caught the bluer it turned and the brighter it shined. And here it was, far away from Hogwarts, being sold by a teenage girl in a Muggle stall.

The second she pulled it out, the girl froze. Perhaps not so Muggle after all. The girl, poor thing, looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hand opened and closed a few times, there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that the redhead wanted to snatch it back.

'I like these stones,' said Hermione, acting like she hadn't seen the girl's unease. 'They look like the ones around my old school in Scotland.'

The girl's mouth fell open and Hermione felt a smile pulling at her lips. Shocked, blue eyes turned suspicious as they studied her. Hermione searched the girl for any signs of House colours. Sure enough, she spotted the girl's own yellow and black bracelet.

She nodded at it, 'I like yours too, though I prefer scarlet and gold.'

The girl laughed, rolling her eyes. 'Yeah, I ran out of _them_ a while back.'

'I don't doubt it.'

She paid double for the bracelet and kindly asked the girl to put it on her. Right wrist beautifully adorned, the brunette moved along. Within the hour, she'd purchased everything on the Muggle shopping list and was heavy a few handmade items. All that was left were the potion ingredients. Looking for a particular stall, she searched for a white cart filled with colourful flowers.

She found the stall at the end, a smiling woman behind it. Olive skinned, dark haired and brown eyed, the older woman was rather beautiful. Exotic features and her style of dress made it very obvious that she had not been born and raised in the country. She was also quite possibly the only non-Caucasian in town. Bubbly and sweet, the villagers loved her. They couldn't always understand her heavily accented English though.

Hermione didn't know much about the Spanish Muggle woman. The little that she did know, she'd learned because of Batty. According to the rumour mill, her husband a religious Muggleborn wizard, had gone off to some third world country as a missionary. When he returned, years later, he'd brought her along. The pair ran the flower shop together, which just happened to double as a magical apothecary.

'Muggle in the front and Wizard in the back,' Batty had stated.

'Hello Mrs. Cox.'

'Hirminy! Hola! Toolips for you?!'

Hermione shook her head at the smiling woman. 'Not today, they're lovely though thank you. I was wondering if the back of the shop was open?'

Mrs. Cox smiled, nodding. A cross dangling from her neck, flashing with her every move. Her black hair shiny and bouncy. 'Jes, open today. Antonio is brooing in celar.'

Hermione nodded. 'I'll just be going then. Thank you.'

A small hand stopped her. The petite woman was wrapping five tulips of varying colours in brown paper and handed them to her, smiling. 'For Loca.'

She bit her bottom lip as she accepted the small bouquet. 'I'll tell Crazy they're from you.'

'Jes,' said the woman laughing.

With sparring wave, Hermione made way towards the outskirts of town.

Unlike the other shops, the Apothecary was not located in the town square. Hermione suspected it had been a conscious decision on Mr. Cox's part. The man wasn't exactly a Potion's Master. By his own admission, he'd made mistakes in the form of small explosions more than once.

The shop, _Olde Rosa's,_ the name a play on words of both their ethnicities, stood alone at the end of a dirty and paved road. An old, silver Aston Martin was parked in the front, the sign on the front of the shop said closed.

She walked to the back, the scent of potion fumes growing stronger with each step. The back door sign read, Open, kindly mind the plants.

She stepped closer and accidentally knocked over potted daisies. She hoped he hadn't seen it.

As she entered, a bell rang above her signalling her entrance. The soothing and comforting smells of an apothecary welcomed her like an old friend.

The sound of the telly reached her ears. Mr. Cox, nowhere to be seen, was chanting in the back.

_'Two world wars and one world c-'_

She shook her head, smiling. Eventually mouthing the words along, waiting for him to finish. One must never interrupt a man when football was on. Or so her dad had told her. At least that was what she thought he meant when he replied to her interruptions with, 'Hermione, footie.'

Potions fumes drifted over her, the scents of drying herbs mixed with the smells of unpleasant potion ingredients. Though generally considered disgusting and foul, Hermione relished in the odour. The familiarity of it all was comforting.

'Mr. Cox!' she eventually managed to yell, letting him know it was her.

'Get what you need and I'll be with you in a second love!' called out a voice from below her sandaled feet.

Knowing the friendly man meant what he said, she made her way behind the counter and with a step ladder began gathering the ingredients on Batty's list.

She had collected all but one by the time the tall man appeared. Dirty blond and pale, the man towered over her five foot four frame. Intimidating at first sight, the man had proven himself to be quite kind and gentle.

'Anything I can help with?'

She turned and smiled at him. 'Nope. Got it all. Just need a pouch of standard ingredient and I'm set.'

Mr. Cox nodded walking towards the counter and reached into a bin. 'Let me help with that then.'

'Thank you,' she said as she began placing potion vials and ingredients into her handbag.

'Those tulips for Batty?'

She breathed a laugh, 'Yeah. Mrs. Cox offered them.'

A loud laugh echoed across the room. 'Yeah, Rosa likes Batty. Where is she by the way?'

'Batty?' she asked, tackling a bottle into the bag. 'She's home.'

'Ah!' he said nodding, smiling knowingly. 'Wanted some alone time eh? Don't blame you love. Some-'

Hermione stopped listening.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision swam. She was lightheaded and her knees grew weak.

She was alone.

_She was alone._

Bottles began to rattle. Herbs began to knock together. Candles flickered and books toppled over.

_'Jesus Christ_ what the feck is that?'

Mr. Cox's voice broke through the haze, managing to steady her. Just, but it was enough for her to centre herself.

Swallowing thickly, panting, cold sweat running down her back, Hermione closed her eyes and recalled the ingredients on her list.

_Distractions were key. Not breathing._

Potion ingredients echoing in her head, Hermione found some measure of control.

When she opened her eyes, she was staring at shattered potion vials on the counter. Placed there by Mr. Cox who was still talking, his voice loud and distracted but she didn't understand a word. She blinked and then the tall man was there, broken bottles in hand.

'That was weird.' He muttered to the floor, eyes downcast, bending over to pick something up. Another broken bottle joined the rest. He ran worried eyes over her. 'Are you alright Hermione? Nothing hit you did it?'

She shook her head, too afraid to speak. She didn't trust herself to open her mouth.

'Good. Wouldn't want Bat-'

Tears blurred her vision. The older man continued to talk but she couldn't hear him over her own beating heart. A trembling hand wiped at her eyes as the older man continued to pick things off the floor, oblivious to her growing panic.

'I have to go now,' she said in a small voice.

Mr. Cox nodded and thanked her when she put down five Galleons with a shaking hand.

The ringing bell caused her to jump and all candles flickered off as the sound of breaking glass rang out.

'What in th-'

The door shut behind her cutting off the man's shocked exclamations. Stood outside the shop and completely dazed, Hermione could do nothing more than stare at her surroundings.

She was alone.

A tear fell down her face as her chest tightened. She quickly wiped it away. She needed to be alert. Blurry eyes would only be an obstacle.

She had to choke back a sob.

'Hermione?' called Mr. Cox's muffled voice.

He was no doubt wondering what she was still doing outside his shop but it didn't matter, she still jumped and her magic still reacted.

His potted plants began rattling, as they began to elevate. Hermione took off. Her reaction instinctual: Run. Run and hide.

She didn't know how or why she ended up where she did, but she'd found herself at the back of the village's library. Small as it was, compared to the rest of the village, it was relatively secluded. Farther away from the centre of town. More so than the Apothecary. At least a fifteen minute walk. Not to mention that unlike the shop with its open fields, the library was surrounded by woods on three sides. It also happened to be closed.

_She'd just made it easier to get kidnapped._

It'd been three weeks since Voldemort attacked all those places. It was unlikely that he would attack here. Except he would, wouldn't he? It was exactly the type of thing he would do. A random raid, on a helpless village, when it was least expected.

The bin beside her shook. She needed to control herself.

Hermione shut her eyes, struggling to reason her way through this ordeal. She needed to steady herself. She needed to think.

The young witch sat down, leaning against the old stone building, trying to steady her breaths and quell the fear and paranoia.

'You're safe,' she whispered to herself.

_You're alright,_ echoed a sweet voice in her head.

It'd sounded like Batty.

She knew that logically, nothing had changed. The village was the same. Nothing had physically been altered. But she would swear to God Himself that Godric's Hollow, blanketed with grey skies as it was, was suddenly much more sinister.

The quiet village was no longer serene, but held deep dark secrets. Opened windows hid Death Eaters. With every corner turned, she ran the risk of being taken away.

Her perception had changed. That was all. Knowing that didn't ease her panic. Because she was still out here, alone.

With dawning realisation, it occurred to her that this was the reason Batty and Hooky had acted so strangely. They had realised what her offer to head out to the market meant. They'd let her go alone. They knew she was safe. They wouldn't have allowed her to leave otherwise.

Her breath steadied and her heart rate slowed. Her shoulders relaxed.

_She was okay._

Pebbles suddenly dropped around her as her magic once again came under her control. She was still shaken though. For no reason other than to steady her nerves, she stretched out a hand, palm down and pointed at the nearest rock.

It wiggled, barely stirring. She focused harder. The pebble lifted off the ground and began to slowly turn.

_It's not much,_ thought Hermione.

_But it's_ _a_ _start, _replied the same voice as before.

Her hand started to hurt and her head began to ache. Releasing the spell, she sat back, staring at the trees that surrounded her. Tall strands of grass and wild flowers danced in the slight breeze. She lost track of time, entranced as she was. The adrenaline rush had since passed and her body demanded sleep but sat on hard pavement, her bum aching, she still couldn't will herself to get up.

Thunder roared making her jump. The flash that followed, shot another bolt of fear through her. Wild eyes scanned the area and she flinched when cold droplets fell on her nose. Around her, rain began to fall.

Shaking her head at her utter ridiculousness, she released a breathy laugh. Hermione closed her eyes and her head fell against the wall. The small droplets felt lovely. And that's when the heavens opened. Batty's advice about bringing an umbrella along rang through her head as it really began to pour down.

_She had actually stepped out on her own._

She didn't react when another rumble from the sky rang out and Hermione felt the corners of her lips lift. Tentative at first, her smile morphed into laughter. She didn't try to fight it or supress it this time and her laugh mixed in with the thunder and lightning and it was all music to her ears.

The young witch suspected she was crying, but the rain made it impossible to know. Still, she continued to laugh.

When her laughter died away, a still smiling Hermione closed her eyes and once again tilted her face towards the sky. Rain splattered across her rapidly cooling flesh.

Soaking wet and smiling, Hermione picked the Tulips and stood. Brushing back her fringe, the witch turned to leave. Her smile fell and a chill that had nothing to do with the storm, ran down her spine.

The world stopped, time slowed and she froze.

Had it not been for the rain framing its form, she wouldn't have known the person was there.

The outline of a hooded figure stood in the middle of the alley, staring and waiting. Blocking her only means of escape.

The storm faded away. The world became muted, barely heard through the sounds of her own beating heart and slow, measured breaths. The whole of her being zeroed in on the figure blocking her path.

This was it. She'd been found. This was how she died.

Then the person took a step towards her. She saw a hand appear. A wand tip flaring to life... and instinct kicked in.

She couldn't run. Woods were behind her. Home was ahead of her, behind the hooded figure's back.

She was trapped and she had to fight.

A sharp pain shot through her temple then. The pain so strong, it momentarily blinding her.

The sensation she felt afterward was difficult to describe. It was like a rolling wave that jolted her core. She was electricity and fire, vibration and light. Hermione knew nothing. She was nothing more than a ball of energy. She was floating and drowning. She was all these things at once and the moment her magic exploded out of her, the world shook.

Everything toppled over. A rippling shock wave, with her at its centre, reverberated.

Falling rain turned to ice. The library's windows shattered. A bin fell over, rubbish burned. Grass and flowers now lay flat. The trees creaked as burning branches fell.

Rattled and shaking, completely drained as her head throbbed, struggling to remain standing as her weak knees shook and gasping for breath, Hermione watched as the prone figure groaned and slowly sat up.

'What the _fuck?!'_

A hand appeared and the hood was pulled away.

Hermione's mouth fell open as wide eyes fell on the face of her pursuer.

Younger than she ever remembered seeing him, hair much shorter than she recalled, he - it couldn't be - but it _was..._ because there was no mistaking those beautiful silver eyes and handsome face.

_Sirius?!_


	7. Ripple

As per usual, many thanks to Dave_,_ whose beta game is strong. Even ill he still throws a _spectacular_ bitch fit every time I managed to turn the very British characters American.

* * *

**Silver**

Ripple

* * *

Hermione's mouth ran dry and she struggled to swallow the painful lump that had formed in her throat.

Doubt and uncertainty barrelled into her, rooting her to the spot.

She couldn't move. She couldn't _speak_. All she could do was stare at the dismembered head floating above wet pavement. Rain splattering his fringe to his face. Had she been able to, she would have reacted sooner. But she was completely frozen, wide eyes and a gaping mouth as she took him in.

Hair fell across his forehead, plastered to his skin by the falling rain. His stubbled jaw well defined, as smooth, healthy skin peaked through dark hair.

_He looked so_ young.

Sirius shook his head, eyes clenched shut.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' he growled, as a hand appeared from thin air and clutched at his head, muttering under his breath.

Her weak knees wobbled beneath her.

Sirius attempted to stand but only managed to fall flat on his back again. Another angry growl and, in a fit of frustration, he tore off the invisibility cloak uncovering a lean body. His weight healthier than she'd ever seen.

The thought struck her then. He was real.

Hermione swallowed thickly as the world swam before her eyes. Once again, her past had stormed back into her life, slapping her in the face.

A final shake of his head and pushing back his wet fringe, pale, angry eyes turned to her.

That was it. Hermione snapped out of her daze and without a thought ran past him. Behind her, barely heard above the storm, his voice called out in an angry tirade.

Her sandalled feet slapped against the pavement and slippery cobblestone as she sloshed through puddles. Black clouds supplying her cover, lightning pacing her feet.

Panting as raindrops blurred her vision, she ran and didn't look back. The young witch didn't even consider it.

Hermione passed the apothecary towards the town square. Rather than go through the street she ran straight ahead, cutting through the cemetery beside the church. Wet grass prickled her toes and heels, mud squishing around them.

She bolted round the corner of the old church and fell as her feet slipped from under her. She was soon back up and running again, flying through the now deserted square.

The wind picked up, trees waved wildly above her and fallen leaves raced beside her. Rain water splattered with every step, steadying herself as she turned another corner. Her feet slipping under her once again as she crossed the bridge.

Cold rain stung her face. Howling wind pushed her back, aching feet propelled her forward. Her pounding footsteps encouraging her to run faster and harder. Her heart was beating violently when she finally reached the safety of Batty's cottage.

Dashing through the threshold, she slammed the door behind her and fell into a trembling mass against its wooden frame.

The walls shook as stomping steps rang from above, echoing around the silent home.

'Hermione?'

Too stunned to reply, Hermione simply sat. Her eyes shut as she fought against the surge of memories that threatened to overwhelm her, each fresh stab of memory coupled with a roll of thunder. The door behind her shook with every rumble and her heart beat faster still.

The cottage couldn't keep her safe. It was all an illusion. She was still in danger, trapped by a false sense of security.

It was the Room of Requirement all over again.

_A small window with dancing blades of grass. _

_The smell of rain and morphing walls that threatened to crush her as blue eyes- _

Hermione slammed her eyes shut, tears pooling behind her closed lids.

She hadn't allowed herself to think of the past. Not actively at any rate. She had fought against her memories for so long that to think of them ... the young witch shook her head, eyes clenched, rocking back and forth. She wouldn't think of them.

She wouldn't.

_She couldn't._

'Miss Hermione?'

An aged hand, soft and warm to the touch, cradled her cheek.

'Are you alright?' asked a soothing voice. 'It wasn't that bad was it?'

Hermione lifted her head, tears stinging her eyes she stared at the blurred face of the only person she trusted in this world.

_I just saw Sirius._

The words were on the tip of her tongue and she'd almost said them. Once again, she had almost forgotten- just managing to catch herself from speaking those words out loud.

Heavy tears trailed down her cheeks. The weight on her chest threatened to suffocate her as thunder echoed around her skull, making it impossible to regain her control.

How could she explain that she'd been followed by Sirius Black? A man who would one day become her best frie - Brown eyes slammed shut and she shook her head, suppressing painful memories as rattling sounds began around her.

She couldn't say a thing. Batty was already curious. Questions would be asked and because of that, she had to keep quiet.

The clanking around her grew and she struggled to breathe, gasping for breath as the walls closed in on her. No one could know and she felt trapped because of it.

'Hermione?'

Small fingers rubbed the back of her neck and she moved forward, into the smaller woman's frame as choked sobs escaped her.

'It's okay love ... _shh_ ... deep breaths ... that's it...'

Lavender and chamomile tea reached her nose, overwhelming her senses and she focused on the comforting mixture that had begun to feel like safety and home.

The thunder and lightning became less threatening. The woman's soothing presence quieting her thoughts.

Behind Batty, she heard Hooky speak.

'Calming potions are gone.'

She heard the tiny witch swear under her breath before quietly speaking out.

'What are the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion?' she asked, her voice soft as small fingers moved lightly over her temples.

Hermione didn't answer. Her mind was far too crowded with past images that threatened to take her under. She flinched as thunder shook the house to it's foundations.

'Come on love,' coaxed Batty. 'Tell me the ingredients. Go on.'

Hermione shook her head, mouthing the word no.

'I know you know them ... Go on. Tell a horrible potioneer what to do. It had Lacewing Flies I think and ... what else?'

The brunette licked her lips, tasting warm, salty tears. 'L-leeches ...'

'That's right,' said Batty quietly, nodding along. 'What else?'

Hermione took deep, measured breaths before swallowing thickly. 'L-lace-wing f-flies. Powdered bicorn horn. K-knotgrass. Flaxseed. Shredded Boomslang skin. A-a bit of the person you want to turn i-into ...'

She didn't stop talking. She gave Batty precise instructions, leaving nothing out, on the brewing method. By the time she reached the last step, the rattling had stopped and her heartbeat was once again steady but her hands still shook and her head still ached.

With a final inhale she sat back against the door. Tired eyes settling on Batty's lined face. She felt a rush of warmth for the older woman when she saw the worry etched in her face, on the upturned curve of her lips.

'I'm okay,' Hermione reassured her.

Batty nodded but didn't say a word.

A familiar snap of fingers rang out and warm steam engulfed her. Clothing and hair suddenly dry as a cloud of dissipating white smoke blocked everything from sight.

'Thank you Hooky,' said the elder witch.

Without conscious thought, Hermione stood. Her hands out towards the kneeling witch.

'Come on love,' Batty said, slowly standing. Weathered hands holding onto her own for leverage. 'A cup of tea is in order.'

Neither spoke as they shuffled their way towards the tiny kitchen. As Batty prepared their tea the Muggle way, she took her seat in the corner table, numb and shaking. Whether from the rain or something else, she didn't know.

Several minutes later, a steaming mug was sat before her.

Hermione didn't much care for tea but she reached for it anyway. It felt lovely against her chilled fingers. The silence between them continued. The only sound in the kitchen, that of the heavy rain rattling against the windows.

Batty didn't try to get an answer out of her and for that she was grateful. Which was why she told her.

'I was followed,' she muttered.

Batty's head snapped up, eyes wide and blazing as she dropped her tea cup and Hermione flinched. Spilt tea scattered the floor as the mug shattered, ruining the quiet that had invaded their otherwise loud home. Before she knew it, the older woman was stood by the window, wand in hand. Her wand-tip lit with bright, orange flames that burned a deep red colour with each renewed flash of lightning.

_'Hooky!'_ yelled Batty over her shoulder, 'Go get our Portkeys! _Now!'_

A crack to her right startled her and the kettle beside her shook. Her shaking intensified as her body flashed hot, her heart rate beginning to speed up.

She stared at the back of Batty's head, struggling to understand what was happening. Batty was yelling out orders and acting like a paranoid, female version of Moody staring out of the window as she- Hermione blinked as the enormity of the situation caught up with her.

_Sirius followed me._

Wide, brown eyes stared into her steaming mug. The scent of Earl Grey wafting over her.

To her left, Batty was muttering to herself. ' ...at will I tell Phemmy? Jamie will be so distraught ... '

Hermione shook her head slowly, still struggling to process the day's events. Batty's words were nothing more than background noise against the overriding sound of crackling thunder.

'... ucking told Albus not to use the Marauders ...'

Batty's words barely registered through the storm brewing in her own mind, but they had. The younger witch stared at the older woman, a new wave of confusion hitting her. She shook her head again, absolutely sure she had misheard.

She'd heard wrong. She was sure of it. She'd had to.

'...amn you Albus!' Batty said in a harsh whisper. 'Those boys' lives were in your hands!'

Eyes wide with growing anxiety, Hermione stared at the shorter woman. Wine bottles knocked together, broken ceramic shards clinked.

Hooky's return caused her to flinch and the tea kettle on the table beside her whistled as the water once again began to boil.

He handed her the wrapped feathers.

'Go to Hogwarts and tell Albus that Hermione was found. That Remus and Sirius are nowhere to be seen...'

All noises stopped, even the storm silenced. Light-headed and her eyes stinging as she stared at the older witch with a gaping mouth.

Batty's words finally settled over her. There was no doubt in her mind as to what she'd heard. She stood and her seat toppled over, clattering to the wooden floor. The loud sound caught Hooky's attention who turned to face her, but Hermione didn't acknowledge him. She was too busy watching Batty.

'You knew I was followed?' she asked breathlessly, her voice shaking, clammy hands trembling.

Batty still hadn't turned around but continued to scan the street, 'What?'

'You knew they were out there?!'

'Hermione? Wha-,' said Batty distractedly, looking over her shoulder at her as thick rain hammered into the window before her. 'We don't have time! We have-'

It became too much. Her nerves were shot to hell and she couldn't _think_ with all the noise in her head and around her. She snapped.

_'You knew Sirius followed me?!'_

Batty flinched at her shrill tone before snow white eyebrows shot upwards into her hairline and just as quickly turned into a frown. The older woman turned fully, finally facing her.

The powerful witch shook her head, eyes shut. 'Wait, wait, wait ... what the hell are you talking about? _Who_ followed you?'

'Sirius!'

Batty's shoulder dropped and she grew still. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

'Sirius followed you?'

Hermione nodded once, completely unsettled by all of this. She had no idea what was going on and it was only managing to put her more on edge. Thunder cracked and she jumped, something behind her fell to the floor.

Adrenaline wearing off, her body was beginning to feel the aftermath of her earlier magic. A painful spasm shot through her and she groaned clutching at her belly. Her head was aching, her arms and legs felt weak and her feet ached. Her whole body was sore.

The day's events were catching up with her. She felt completely drained. A snap of fingers rang out, and a Pain Potion appeared before her. She happily drank it.

Lightning lit up the kitchen, a white filter brightening up the room around them, throwing every object into sharp contrast. When the brief light faded away, everything felt diluted. Somehow muted and surreal.

Batty hadn't stopped her staring.

'... And only him?'

The brunette nodded again slowly.

'No one else?'

Hermione shook her head, _where was Batty going with this?_

Batty released a shaky laugh as she fell against the counter behind her. A small hand rubbing down her face as the other clutched at her heart. Beside her feet, Hooky shook his head. Ears flapping as he grumbled under his breath, two fingers pinching the bridge of his long nose, his pink glasses gone.

'You daft bitch,' laughed Batty weakly. 'Of course he fucking followed you.'

Hermione's anger flared at the use of the word daft and around them dishes trembled. She was _not_ stupid, she was just confused.

Another snap rang out and within moments a bottle of Muggle tequila appeared before Hooky who swiftly shuffled out of the kitchen, dragging the bottle behind him.

'Hooky quits for the day,' squeaked the house-elf as he sat at the table.

_Very, very confused._

The brunette blinked, struggling to process everything.

'You ... you mean to tell me that you _knew?'_

Batty stared at her like she had just sprouted a new head. 'You mean to tell me that you fucking _didn't?!'_

Hermione shook her head, eyes shut as she desperately tried to make sense of this whole thing. Her thoughts disjointed and fleeting as thunder clapped and the wind howled.

_I was followed by Sirius Black._

And Batty had known.

Hooky had known too.

The lights flickered. Her toppled seat's rattling grew louder. The dishes clanked harder together as Batty's wine bottles began knocking against one another.

'Oi! Bitch!'

Her head throbbed and the kettle on the table whistled. Hooky quickly silenced it with a snap. A final snap and the mess on the floor vanished as her chair righted itself.

If Batty had known then it only meant one thing: Dumbledore was watching her. Even having her followed.

This whole time, he'd been spying on her.

_Of course he was._

For the first time in her life, she knew how Harry had felt during summer before fifth year. The lack of respect, awareness and foolish trust felt like a slap to the face. Hermione felt stupid, like she'd been the butt of some joke.

Anger welled up inside her and she had to bite down on her tongue to steady herself. Her body once again flushing hot and cold as her fingertips prickled. She stopped biting when the taste of blood coated her throat. Still, the pain just managed to ease her. Slowly, the items around them grew silent.

'I've been watched?' she asked. 'The _entire time_ I've been here, I've been watched... _and you didn't tell me?!'_

'You know love, for someone with such a big fucking brain, you can be bloody thick.' Batty shook her head, suppressed laughter shaking her tiny frame. The elder witch nodded towards the window. _'Of course_ you're being watched!'

'B-but-'

'But what?' Batty asked, still giggling. 'You actually thought I was your only protection?'

Batty shook her head, smiling widely, eyes bright. 'Ta for the compliment love but you'd need more than little ol' me if Voldemort came knocking. I know I'm good but I'm not _that_ good.'

'But Dumbledore said-'

_'Albus_ says a lot of shit that's easy enough to understand and that pleases the ears. The tricky part is trying to read between the lines to decipher what he really means - look, c'mere...'

Hermione followed Batty towards the rain pelted kitchen window. Her brain still trying to make sense of this day. The market felt days away as opposed to an hour or two.

'On either end of the street there is an Order member hidden underneath an invisibility cloak. When we go out, one follows us, the other stays behind and watches the house. You've had a constant, twenty-four hour guard since the moment you got here. Normally it's the Prewett twins with the pervert occasionally substituting. But from my understanding their skills were needed elsewhere. Sirius and the werewolf have been watching you for the past week. That's all I've been told. Knowing Albus, he's done a few other things to keep you safe too. I haven't been told but yeah, they've been watching you. According to the pervert the two Marauders have gotten quite curious about you.'

'I'm flattered,' dead-panned Hermione, brown eyes running the length of the street.

She couldn't see anything. It was too dark and she had to squint to make anything out through the thick stream of water running down the glass.

She could practically feel Batty's grin.

'You should be. Have you seen them?' The older witch whistled. 'Believe me love, if I was a few years younger and Sirius Black was a few years older, I'd gladly ride his face like a pony.'

_'Batty!'_

_'What?!_ I may be old but I'm still a woman and believe me when I say that Black could be the perfect toy if he only learned to shut his goddamn mouth. Seen but not heard, would suit him fine.'

Hermione shook her head, her heart still beating wildly in her chest. A sudden thought struck her.

'Wait!' She said in a whirl of brown curls, turning away from the window to face the shorter witch. 'How do you know Sirius? How do you even know about the Marauders?'

Batty raised an amused eyebrow.

'No love,' she shook her head, pale green eyes twinkling. 'I think the real question here is how do _you_ know Sirius Black?'

Hermione's mouth slammed shut with an audible snap. Batty lost whatever remaining control she had at that and roared with laughter.

The brunette watched on with growing confusion. Face burning, she turned back to the window. The storm was growing in strength with each passing hour and she idly wondered if Godric's Hollow flooded. Thunder roared and the wind howled. A blurry figure turned the corner as lightning flashed around it, framing the person starkly against the dark.

Brown eyes widened when she recognised the vague shape as that of a disgruntled Sirius, rubbing the back of his head. Eyes steadily widening when she realised he was headed in their direction.

Hermione dropped to the floor with a sound caught between a squeak and a gasp.

Her heart pounding, she pressed herself into the cupboard desperately trying to mold herself to it. She didn't know why she was doing that exactly, she was inside and he wouldn't be able to see through walls but still. At that moment hiding made perfect sense. A loud, unladylike snort caused her to jump. She looked up at Batty who was staring at her with sparkling, watery eyes and grasping at her belly.

_'_What?_'_ she asked somewhat indignant, completely embarrassed.

The younger witch felt her cheeks redden as Batty laughed harder and began pointing with an arthritic finger.

* * *

He stood completely still, holding his breath as pale eyes studied the girl before him.

_There's no way she can see me,_ he told himself. Doubt beginning to creep in as she continued to stare at the very spot in which he stood.

Wide eyes darted to their surroundings and just as quickly returned to him.

_Shit._

The Marauder looked down and groaned when he saw his body framed by falling rain. Used to James' cloak, he'd forgotten how limited and inferior the standard ones were.

He took a step forward as the girl began to sway, her eyes unfocused. He pulled his wand out, ready and fully prepared to conjure a cushion and break her fall.

'It's ok-' he started, but was quickly silenced as wild magic swirled up between them. He furrowed his brow as spots of gold, glittering magic raced towards him.

Realisation was slow to come and he didn't register her startled gasp until it was too late. Snow flickered around them, there was a flash and bang as light drained from around them and his head snapped back as a blow struck him in the chest. Fire spread throughout his body, shocks of pain shot to every muscle right down to his fingers and toes. The back of his head struck stone and everything began to grow dark-

A crack of thunder clapped above him and his eyes sprang open, staring upwards into a black sky, flashes of lightning following soon after as though in reply.

He coughed, wheezing as he struggled to breathe. The wind completely knocked out of him. Rain splattering across his thinly veiled face. Trembling, Sirius tried to move but a painful spasm hit up his back.

Choked sobs broke the momentary silence and everything flooded back.

He managed to sit up, his fear and sense of duty numbing all pain. As he tried to stand, a booted foot stepped on the end of the cloak. Unable to move, he once again fell backwards, hitting the same spot as before.

His gut twisted painfully and he had to close his eyes to stop everything from spinning. His frustration intensified and he wrestled with the useless cloak, removing it and throwing it as far away as he could, swearing under his breath as he did. He could feel her eyes on him and it only managed to piss him off even more.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' he yelled at her.

His head throbbed painfully and he tasted bile. His fringe blocked his line of sight and his whole body shook. Warning bells went off in his head and the back of his neck prickled. Unsteady hands pushed back his soaking fringe and that's when he spotted her.

Their eyes met and his breath caught in his throat.

She'd gone from staring at him with doe eyed shock, tears streaming down her face, to shaking her head muttering no over and over again into her hands within the span of a heartbeat.

There'd been an emotion hidden behind her eyes. He'd seen it. Though nothing more than a flicker, gone as quickly as it'd come, it had still managed to make his gut clench.

'Sirius?' she whispered.

He blinked and the spell broke. Like a switch, she instantly reacted. Within seconds, she had run past him.

'WAIT!' Sirius yelled at the escaping girl's back as he attempted to stand on trembling legs. 'Come back! I'M PROTECTING YOU!'

Lighting flashed above him and he flinched, his hand giving out from under him. His nose hit the pavement and dots blinded him for a second as his eyes rapidly watered.

'Fuck!'

The sounds of pounding footsteps began to fade and he attempted to once again stand. His mission, not yet forgotten but no longer as important. Protect her his arse. She clearly didn't need any help. As far as he was concerned, she was doing fine all on her own.

He raised a shaky hand to his nostrils, positive the crazy bitch had broken his nose. His fingers tentatively touched it and he winced.

His nose was tender and it hurt like hell, but at least it was still intact. He didn't exactly fancy resembling Moody. Grey eyes turned back towards the now empty alley, wondering how far she was by now and if he should try to chase after her.

He dropped back to the wet pavement as rain pelted down on him. Body shaking and his heart beating wildly. Thunder jolting him with each drum-roll of noise, each flash of light had him flinching. The noise set his teeth on edge. It was becoming too much, it didn't help his aching head either.

Sirius grumbled as he attempted to stand on unsteady feet, his knees still weak. The world spun wildly out of control around him. Nauseous and on the verge of falling, he stumbled his way towards the nearest wall.

Unfortunately the walls were slick with rain and his hands slipped so that once again, Sirius tumbled to the floor, landing in a deep puddle caused by the never ending fucking rain.

He didn't bother getting up. It was pointless anyway, the world was spinning too fast for him to know which way was up and which way was down. His eyes burned as the fierce rain battered his eyes, lifting a hand to protect them. Every flash of lightning felt like a stab of pain. He was shaking, his head ached, his limbs were sore and his chest burned with his every breath.

_What the fuck did that bitch do to me?_

It took several minutes, and a brief break in the battering of flashing lightning and roaring thunder, for him to gather enough strength to sit up.

Exhausted and using the wall as leverage, he managed to push himself up as the world kept spinning.

Certain he knew what had happened, Sirius lifted his wand and tried a levitation charm. The bin beside him managed to float a foot off the ground before it dropped unceremoniously as he clutched at his chest.

Struggling to breathe as his chest burned, sending fiery shock-waves to his fingertips and toes. Sirius stifled a scream as his head throbbed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His nausea intensified as the ache inside him demanded rest.

He wasn't worried. Sirius knew this specific pain all too well, having felt it many times before as a kid. Thanks to the practice for his transformations, magical exhaustion was an old mate.

That paranoid witch bitch had fucking done this to him.

_How? How the fuck was this even possible?_

It hadn't been a spell. Going by her shocked expression, it hadn't been intentional either. Sirius clutched at the back of his sore head, it seemed that his and Remus' theories about Hermione being a Squib were so fucking wrong.

His eyes turned towards the smouldering branches, studying the trees and surrounding grass. Silver eyes returned to the spot where his charge had stood. It wasn't difficult to find. A perfect circle charred the pavement, which in turn was encircled by a ring of melting snow.

'What the fuck?!' he muttered under his breath.

Sirius shook his head and groaned a second later when his stomach rolled. More lightning and thunder, he flinched every single time. The bright light burning his eyes, the loud sound, louder still.

Pressed against the wall, he stood and found that as long as he didn't move his head so much, the world didn't spin as fast.

He walked slowly. Hermione was long gone and he didn't really care if she had made it back or not. She could fuck off. He was done.

For the past week he'd been stood under an Invisibility Cloak when it was hot as fuck, watching a bird that was clearly not in any danger if she was walking about singing songs he'd never fucking heard of, buying bloody bracelets and what the bloody fuck was that about her being in Gryffindor?! Bull-fucking-shit she was in his old house! She looked his age and he didn't remem-

He stopped dead in his tracks, blinking.

_She said my name._

She had seen his face and had said his name.

He walked a bit faster when he spotted the apothecary, his anger building.

All this time, he'd been forced to watch the cow and it turns out she knew him? Fuck this. He was getting answers.

Moody, Fabian and his lap dog may not want to tell him anything but he was going to get answers. Enough was enough. He was fed up with their bollocks.

Suspected Death Eater activity his arse. The moment he'd set foot in Godric's Hollow he'd known something was off. Sirius had walked these streets for years, he knew these people, had lived amongst them. They were as much Death Eaters as he was and he'd happily give his left bollock if that statement proved to be wrong. He passed the pub within minutes.

Shit only got weirder when the house he and Remus had been sent to watch turned out to be Batty's of all people. Crazy and disturbingly flirty though she may be, he doubted she would ever help Voldemort and from what he'd overheard said, she knew how to fight off the Imperius Curse.

_Handy thing to know these days._

Plus, the old woman was Mrs. Potter's close, personal friend. That alone cleared her of any possible wrong doing as far as he was concerned.

Confused and sure of it all being a mistake, the pair of them had asked questions only to be met by a wall of silence from Fabian, a glare from the other one and yells from Mad-Eye. He turned a corner, Hollybrook Bridge coming into view.

'Mind your own fucking business boy and do as you're told!' Moody had growled. Spittle flying from rubbery lips as he'd ordered them to keep quiet and not ask questions. 'It's not your place to know what you're doing there, if that's a problem then you can both fuck off! The Order needs soldiers not curious school boys.'

The old Auror knew how to hit a nerve. They'd stopped asking, both resolved to the inevitable fact that they wouldn't know their actual purpose here. A lot of guessing ensued.

'Maybe she knows something?' Remus had stated and he'd replied with an unsure nod. Truth be told, it was the only thing that made sense.

The old woman had lived alone for years, content to travel the world, stirring up trouble. To the best of his knowledge, she had no ties to the country outside of a few close friends. The woman was alone and there was no reason as to why they were guarding her.

On their second day they found out just how fucking wrong they'd been.

Having missed tea with the Potters the night before, he and Remus had remained in Godric's Hollow intent on joining them that night. As soon as they were covered by the Prewett Twins, they'd made their way to The Lamb and Flag, deciding to have a few pints before walking towards Potter Hall. They'd barely sat down and had only talked for a few minutes when they'd been approached by Tom 'No Bullshit' Miller, a local Muggle the Marauders were sort of mates with.

'Hello lads,' he'd said as he pulled up a chair. 'Mind if I join you?'

They'd nattered, sports, motorbikes, tattoos and music. Nothing important as far as he was concerned, not until women were inevitably brought up.

No Bullshit shook his head whistling, 'Nah mate you keep them birds. I'd rather have me a hometown girl. All sweet smiles and shy looks... like Hermione, that girl Batty's been carting around.

Outwardly, he didn't react. Inside, warning bells were firing off. To his right, Remus had stopped mid drink. Settling his glass down, he turned to the blond.

'What girl?' the werewolf casually asked.

Dark eyes widened and a side grin fell across the blokes face. 'You haven't heard yet?'

Both Marauders shook their heads.

No Bullshit laughed. 'Fair warning then mate, she's mine,' he said to Sirius, pointing at him. The long-haired wizard nodded as he lit a fag, not caring either way.

The bearded bloke shrugged. 'Girl suddenly showed up around Spring, dragged around by Batty. Her name's Hermione. Nobody knows anything about her except that she's Batty's assistant or something. Helps the old bird with chores and the like.'

Further questioning proved useless as the bloke hadn't known a damn thing beyond rumours. Apparently, the reason for Hermione's sudden appearance was a very well-kept secret.

It told them enough to know that Batty wasn't who they'd been sent to watch. Curiosity peaked, they'd asked again only to be stared down with an electric blue eye and ordered to keep a careful watch on the girl. If Remus caught on to the thinly veiled threat if they failed to protect her, as he had, he didn't show it.

It had driven him up the wall with curiosity and suspicion ever since. He knew Remus was in the same boat as well, except the taller Marauder hadn't been too keen to find answers.

'Drop it. There has to be a reason for all this secrecy Sirius,' he'd argued. 'And contrary to your own personal belief, you don't fucking deserve an answer to everything.'

Sirius turned the corner as he passed the old Potter cottage, Blossom Grove, now turned Order safe house.

Remus was just as wound up as he was. Unlike the werewolf though, Sirius had fuck all patience for people keeping secrets from him.

The wind was beginning to pick up and debris from the street ran across his booted feet. A leaf smacked him on the cheek and he flinched as he reared back on instinct. His head throbbed painfully and he had to stop, holding onto the nearest wall to steady himself.

'Fucking bitch!' he spat into the wind.

She's going to pay, he vowed as his surroundings once again tilted beneath and around him.

The Marauder turned the corner, massaging the back of his neck. Silver eyes set on a particular door.

To his distant right, he could hear Remus calling to him, demanding answers and spouting warnings but he didn't acknowledge them or him. He didn't give a fuck.

Sirius pounded his fist into the wooden door, rattling it in its frame as his loud knocking echoed around them.

With a bang the door opened and he bit back a groan. Suddenly remembering why he hated coming here. With everything that had happened, he'd forgotten whose door he was banging on.

The tiny witch before him peered up at him with red painted lips. A sweet smile as green eyes ran the length of his body.

'Well hello Sirius,' Batty purred, 'I'd hoped you'd come calling soon. I've missed you so.'

He glowered down at her. Bloody bat always fucking said and did weird things. He didn't know why, but it always left him feeling violated and objectified. He refused to let her get to him this time. He was getting answers and he was getting them now. He looked over her tiny frame, straight into what he knew was the sitting room.

'Hermione!' he yelled into the cottage, his voice drowned out by a roar of thunder, 'I know you're here!'

Only lightning answered. His fists clenched and he had to bite back a groan as a painful spasm moved down his wand arm. He leant against the door frame, panting. The world lightly spinning.

'Where the fuck is she Batty?! I need to talk-' he quickly cut off when he looked down and caught her staring at his crotch.

Batty licked her lips, shaking her head. 'I'm like the perfect height- I won't even have to get on my knees...'

His eyes widened and he cupped himself. _'What?!'_

'And Merlin help me, you're all wet. Looking at you love, I'm getting there meself.'

Sirius clenched his jaw, she was _not_ going to get to him this time. 'Where the fuck is she Batty?!'

The short witch looked up at him, 'Let me blow you. I'll just take out my tee-'

He shoved her aside, storming his way into her home. He'd had more than enough today. He was not going to let some old pervy bitch stop him from getting his fucking answers.

As he passed the kitchen, on his way towards the sitting room, a stifled sob caught his attention. He took two steps back, pushing open the kitchen door and sure enough, there he found her.

'What the hell di-' his voice died away in his throat.

Sat on the floor, crying and shaking, her knees huddled close to her chest she stared up at him with those same terrified eyes. It took a second for him to register the house-elf standing defiantly between them.

The long haired wizard blinked, his mouth completely dry. He didn't understand.

_Why did she keep looking at me like that?_

A sharp pain stabbed him in the ribs. 'Leave. Now!'

Sirius turned to look at the old witch, her long wand digging into his side. No longer smiling, her eyes were hard and spoke of a promised threat.

Licking his lips, he looked back at the scared girl. He didn't move, his whole being focused on Hermione.

Thunder clapped and lightning flashed and the silence grew thick. The only thing that moved were the curtains, lightly ruffled by an unnatural breeze that circled the kitchen alone.

_Accidental magic...?_

A jab to his ribs startled him, quickly followed by a yank to his arm that caused him to flinch but which most definitely did not cause him to make a noise in the back of his throat.

Beside them, Remus spoke and Sirius turned to stare at the clearly visible but still invisible frame of his best mate.

'Apologies Batty,' murmured Moony.

Said witch didn't say anything beyond, _'Get. Out.'_

He was led away. Out the door and back into the storm.

Still reeling from the day's events and more than dazed, the black haired wizard turned to the werewolf when he spoke.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' hissed Remus, pulling him back towards the end of the street. 'What the hell happened? Why did Hermione come running like that and why the fuck are you visible?!'

Distracted as Sirius was, he'd allowed himself to be pulled away with no answers given.

When he realised this, his anger flared. Yanking his arm back from Remus' strong grip, he glared at the taller bloke. His bicep hurt when he did and he wanted to rub it but fuck that. Silver eyes ran over his still covered mate. Stood there, under a dripping cloak with his perfectly erect posture-

'You look like a giant dick wearing a used condom!' spat the dog animagus.

He saw Remus stiffen and look down. Hands and a head appeared, quickly followed by a torso as the werewolf took off the Invisibility cloak, swearing under his breath as he did.

'She saw you,' said Moony, brown hair plastered to his skull by the pelting rain.

Sirius nodded. 'Yeah.'

'And you decided that talking to her was the way to go you stupid prick?'

'Fuck off! I tried to calm her down! Stupid bird lost her mi-'

'-why'd you speak to her at all?! We fucking agreed mat-'

'-No! _You_ fucking agreed! I never said-'

'- then what did you do?!'

'I didn't do anything!' he hissed out as he defended himself, glaring daggers at the bastard. _'__She_ attacked _me!'_

'Good!'

'Fuck you!'

He stared hard at the werewolf. His frustration rolling through him in waves. He was tired of all the mystery. It wasn't worth his life. Remus _had_ to sense how off this all felt. It smelt wrong and left a foul taste in his mouth.

'Don't you want to know?' he asked. The urgency in his voice plain to hear.

Remus clenched his jaw at that, looking at everything but him as he swept back his fringe, wet clothes sticking to his shivering torso.

'It's not our business to know,' he finally said.

'Bollocks!'

'Drop it mate,' growled Remus. Eyes flashing gold in the lightning. 'Our job is to do as we're told. Not question our fucking mission. If we're here, watching Hermione, then there has to be a reason for it.'

Sirius glared at his idiot best mate. An overwhelming urge to throttle the arsehole until he saw reason burned through him. He coughed and his head spun. The long haired Marauder looked up then, knowing exactly what to say to make the lanky werewolf see reason.

'She did magic.'

Amber eyes turned to him. _'What?'_

'She did magic. So your little Squib theory can fuck right off cos from what I saw mate, that bitch is a bit more powerful than we thought.'

Curiosity and uncertainty flickered through the taller blokes features, fighting for dominance. He knew which had won out seconds before Remus spoke.

Glowing eyes scanned the empty street, lips barely moving, 'What'd you see?'

'She started to...' he shook his head. No matter how long he lived, Sirius doubted he would ever be able to describe exactly what he'd seen. 'When she spotted me- Mate, the air around her vibrated... a fucking light surrounded her and it vibrated. Her hair started to stand on end and she just stood there, staring at me.'

Her eyes had been glowing too but he didn't know if it was an illusion brought on by lightning or not.

'Everything started to shake and fucking pebbles and stones started to float. I took a step towards her to tell her who I was but before I could she fucking did something and bloody flattened my arse, along with everything else! Next thing I know I'm on my back on the fucking floor and she's stood there, fucking surprised and shocked and then she said my name-'

_'-your what?!'_

'My _name._ She said my bloody name and then she fucking ran away!'

Remus' eyes ran over his face trying to find the lie.

'You're lying,' he quietly said, disbelief dripping from his every syllable.

Sirius didn't reply, he simply met Remus' stare.

Moony blinked. 'Fucking hell.'

He couldn't agree more. Truth be told, this whole thing had unnerved him. The odd mission, the total lack of information... It seemed like everything surrounding the girl was based on lies and half-truths. His eyes turned towards Batty's house.

Sirius had heard his name said in many different ways and in varying degrees of harshness or pleasure, but he couldn't remember it being uttered with such depth. It was disturbing really. Hearing your name being said like that, unknowing of the reason behind it. There was something really off about that.

He wanted answers. Had fucking earned them in fact.

Whatever the hell this was, it wasn't as important as the war. Out there, he was fighting for what was right. Would happily die knowing he had lain down his life for the good of mankind. Here, he didn't know what he was doing. He'd be damned if he died protecting some slag for fuck knew what.

If he was risking his life, he fucking deserved to know why.

He was getting answers. One way or another, he _was._

Wide, frightened eyes flashed through his mind then. _Why had_ _she been so terrified?_

Out of habit and for lack of anything better to do, Sirius reached into his pockets, searching for his fags. He didn't actually want to smoke, but he had to do something. His body was still humming from the day's events and standing still, doing nothing, was not an option. He ached all over and he wanted to rest, but he was too wound up for it.

Completely dry, he pulled out a fag and held it between clenched lips, marveling at the wonder that was the Impervious Charm. He reached for his wand and with a deep inhale, lit his cigarette.

_Was she scared of_ me?

'They're lying to us.'

Sirius absentmindedly nodded, his mind somewhere else. 'Yeah.'

'And she knows you.'

Again he nodded, exhaling a billowing cloud of grey smoke. 'Yeah.' _But how?_

Lightning flashed and the sky lit up, turning the black clouds blue grey. Thunder and then, in perfect unison, they turned to look at each other. Their eyes locked, widening as realisation hit them both. Only one explanation was possible and Sirius groaned, mentally kicking himself.

'Mate,' muttered Remus. 'I think you shagged our mission.'


	8. Inquisition

All hail the mighty David James for he never fails to take a moment out of his busy life to fix the awful mess I make.

* * *

**Silver**

Inquisition

* * *

Sirius held his breath as he studied the shadowy woods surrounding him.

The trees rustling in the breeze breaking the silent night. A crescent moon, which brought nothing but anxiety now, peaked through the swaying branches as beams of moonlight pierced the mossy earth. In the distance an owl hooted and cut off the moment faint footsteps approached.

The smell of earth, sweat and soap reached him before he saw him. A twig snapped and he grinned, turning towards the approaching figure that could not yet be seen through the heavy forest. The footsteps grew louder and the bushes shifted as a familiar face appeared from within the brush.

Hands in pockets, Sirius smirked as the bloke struggled with a clingy branch. He snickered the second it reared back and smacked the shorter wizard's forehead.

'Alright?' he asked, not at all attempting to hide the humour in his voice.

'Fuck your bush,' growled the shorter wizard as he glared at the offending shrubbery.

Watery eyes turned to him as he started to laugh. Pete shook his head, blond hair dishevelled, bits of leaves and twigs tangled in.

'Are you aware,' he said as he began to dust himself off. 'That you have a big fucking house where we could have met?'

Sirius nodded, a wide smile on his face as Peter pulled a twig out from under his shirt. 'Yeah I am. But if we'd been seen doing nothing we would've been sent on a mission?'

Peter didn't say anything else but grumbled his defeat as he sorted himself out. If you wanted free time one sure way to guarantee it didn't happen was to sit around his home.

Not even his floor - which didn't allow anyone past his personal stairs without permission - was safe. Moody had a tendency of charming objects to run up and down the stairs, screaming until he spoke to the Auror. He still couldn't figure out how the old bastard had managed to surpass the silencing charm.

It may be a pain in the arse but even he had to admit that it was very effective.

'Still,' bitched Wormtail. 'You have a whole forest to pick a meeting place. There's no excuse for picking the one place surrounded by hungry owls and rocky terrain.'

'You should've transformed like I did. Makes the trip faster and easier.'

The blond wizard glared. 'I transform into _rat!'_

'Not my problem,' he replied with a shrug. 'Ready?'

'Ready for what?'

'For a pint.'

The shorter wizard's head shot up. Blue eyes pierced him with a scowl. 'You made me walk and Apparate through these fucking woods six bloody times to invite me to a fucking pub?!'

Sirius blinked and felt the corner of his lips twitch. 'Six times? Shit. Really?'

He chuckled as he dodged a flying twig aimed at his head.

'Yes you twat!'

The dog animagus responded by pointing at a fallen tree to his left. 'I told you to meet me at the clearing by the tree.'

Peter continued to pull at his hair as a stubborn something refused to budge. 'It's a forest you shit for brains!'

Sirius widened his eyes, scanning the woods with mock amazement. 'So it is.'

Wormtail finally dislodged a leaf and threw it at him with a violent gesture that he felt was completely unnecessary. As Pete renewed his struggle, pale eyes followed the leaf's path as it twirled its way down, finally settling into the empty and mossy space between them.

'If you wanted to go for a damn drink you could have just said rather than sending me a bloody Patronus and being so fucking dramatic and secretive!'

'I was not being secretive!' he argued defending himself, completely indignant at the shorter wizard's accusation.

Pete glared harder. 'Wormtail meet me at the clearing by the tree. Come alone. Tell no one.'

'And you followed the instructions perfectly!'

'Six _sodding_ clearings Sirius!'

'Alright!' said Sirius, his hands up in a placating gesture, 'I should have said something but in my defence, I knew it'd be funnier this way.'

'Arsehole!'

'-And,' he said mid laughter as Pete pulled the last twig out of his hair. 'This way, it'd be just us lads without the two pussy whipped bitches tagging along.'

Pete blinked. 'You didn't want Prongs or Moony to come along?'

Blond eyebrows shot upwards when he shook his head. 'Why?'

_Because all they want to do is talk about the war._ 'Cos we're the clever ones who didn't condemn and chain our dicks to a single mouth.'

Peter snickered staring up at the moon. 'Moony's in heat as well.'

'Bitch is always in heat and James,' he sniffed. 'Refuses to be away from Lily for too long.'

'Yeah. Two rounds in and I reckon he'd leave.'

'Exactly,' he said nodding. 'As we're single and mission-less, I felt a night out was needed. Act our fucking ages and be proper lads for once.'

'Fine. Still doesn't excuse your shitty behaviour-,'

'-Pete, Pete, Pete,' he said with a shake of his head. Eyebrows raised, a small smile pulling at his lips. 'Pub?'

Wormtail's glare gave way to a rueful glance and the long haired Marauder snickered.

'Yeah,' answered the rat animagus with an irritated sigh. 'Pub.'

Sirius clapped his hands together. 'Brilliant! What you in the mood for Wormtail? Chinese? German? I've a craving for Indian meself.'

'I had Indian last time.'

He ran a hand through his hair as he nodded, suddenly remembering. 'Yeah you did. Alright mate. You decide.'

Twigs snapped in the distance then and both Marauders froze, listening for the tell-tale signs of footsteps. High pitched squeals and a satisfied owl's hoot lessened their paranoia.

Anxious eyes met his. 'I-I don't want to wait too long and I want something that will go down smooth ... How about American?'

'Yeah, alright,' he said, forcing a smile. 'London?'

'London,' agreed Peter. 'Meet you in the alley outside that club?'

'Yeah.'

Two wands appeared from under a sleeve and back pocket respectively, with a parting nod both spun on the spot.

Fresh air and the quiet serenity were replaced with the smell and sounds of the capital city.

Pete cleared his throat and Sirius turned in time to see a blonde girl struggling to sort out her metallic and shimmering dress as a bloke next to her didn't bother to do anything. Dick out, trousers by his ankles, mouth agape and eyes wide, he just stood there staring.

He could feel Pete shaking beside him, his own laughter now threatening to escape. He had to choke it down when Wormtail took a hasty step towards the bloke.

'Quickly!' cried Peter, 'What year is it? Are we too late?! Have the butterflies attacked yet?! Have they taken over?! _Tell me?!'_

The bloke, heavily chained, bearded and clad in polyester flinched. 'W-what?'

'The butterfly overlords! Have they attacked yet?!'

The poor bloke shook his head as the blonde behind him ran frightened and confused eyes over them.

'N-no,' stammered polyester bloke, his dick still out and growing soft by the second.

He hadn't stared or had meant to look but it was very obviously _there._

'What's the year?' demanded Pete of him. Shaking him a bit when no dazed answer came.

'W-what?'

'The date man! _What is the date?!'_

'23rd of June, 1979,' answered the girl, her voice shaky, as she hid behind her partner.

Wormtail turned back towards him with a look of unrestrained joy on his face and it was all he could do not to laugh outright then and there.

'We're not too late,' he cried with a sigh of relief. 'We can change it all! We can change the future!'

Polyester blinked rapidly as the blonde bird squeaked. 'W-what?'

'Come Mathius!' said Pete, flourishing as he pulled Sirius' jacket sleeve. 'We have a world to save!'

His chest twitched from suppressed laughter, bubbling upwards threatening to escape. His gut hurt from holding it in. They were at the alley's mouth when his mate turned back to the shocked couple.

'Remember!' warned Wormtail. 'Beware the butterflies!'

Huffing, eyes watering and not one to be outdone, Sirius turned to Polyester. 'Careful mate! They go in through your dick hole!'

The bloke fell over and the blonde let out a startled gasp as she helped him up.

He and Pete barrelled through the growing crowd as they headed towards Camden, laughing as they did.

Fucking hell, he'd missed Pete. Out of the four of them he was the quietest but that didn't stop him being just as funny. Actually helped it a bit.

He was also the one who was usually gone the most. The shorter wizard really was good at intelligence gathering.

'Pete,' he chuckled. 'That was ace.'

Wormtail laughed. 'I try.'

With every step the throng of people grew and the noise rose around them until it became one giant, deafening mass. Accents from all across the globe reached his sensitive hearing making it difficult to focus on one sound alone.

Universally acknowledged as a tourist trap, Camden Market held a certain charm that managed to attract locals and visitors alike. Stalls and pubs littered the colourful street as crowds made their way through the sprawling madness towards destinations unknown.

With no real plan they walked in a random direction. Music blasted out of record stores, pubs and bars were a revolving door of activity. Their pane glass windows displaying the excited patrons as they drank and laughed. His eyes were immediately called to the shop across the street. The first tattoo parlour on the street, it was filled to capacity. Goths, in varying degrees of black and silver chains studied the art offered on walls.

He really wanted tattoos.

His attention was quickly drawn away when a smaller body barrelled into him. Scowl in place he turned around ready to tear the fucker a new arsehole, when big brown eyes sparkled up at him. Giggles and a bit of shoving followed as the group of three girls stared up at him.

The one who had bumped into him was the shortest of the three. Brunette, big eyes, creamy skin, hourglass figure and large breasts, the bird was a teenage boy's wet dream. She also had chapped lips and fucked up teeth.

Beside her stood the tallest of the three. A willowy, dirty blonde whose features and waist long hair recalled those of a hippie. She was dressed like one as well. Her bomber jacket had buttons that read things like, 'Feminism now, Feminism FOREVER!', 'Men bow down!', 'Burn your bras and fuck oppression!' and 'Save a cow, eat a carrot.' Clearly, Hippie Bitch The Sequel was a vaginatarian. She had thin lips. The last had black hair and seemed to be the least interested. Her eye drawn across the street to an occult shop. Her pink and flowered dress in total contrast to her hemp bracelets and combat boots. The fattest of the lot, she was the least attractive.

His eyes were quickly drawn back to Brown Eyes when she cleared her throat. The bitch smiled at him. All flirty and sweet.

'Oh my God sorry!' apologised the brunette.

Her accent very clearly American.

He turned to Pete, whose eyebrows shot upwards as his eyes lit up.

He still hadn't spoken, content in glaring at the simpering bitch. Her smile slowly fading.

'No need to apologise love,' chimed in Pete. His smile charming and kind. 'Complete accident surely?'

The brunette's eyes moved between him and Pete, a tentative smile aimed at the blond wizard.

'It was yeah...' she gestured to her friends, eyes unsure as they settled on him. 'Again, sorry. We'll just be leaving.'

She couldn't turn fast enough it seemed as Hippie Bitch the Sequel glared at him. The big bird hadn't bothered to acknowledge him. Beside him, Pete smiled as he watched Brown Eyes' pert arse as she walk away.

Sirius eyed the chattering trio as they made their way into the nearest bar full of shouting people. He easily picked up Brown Eyes' distinctive American twang. He turned to Pete.

'Still fancy American?'

The bloke nodded enthusiastically. 'More than ever.'

'Alright,' he shrugged. 'I still fancy Indian though.'

'I'm sure you'll find something to satisfy your palette mate.' Pete nodded at the large windows. 'It's Saturday night after all.'

'Okay, who am I?' he asked the shorter wizard. 'Posh Twat or Sexist Arsehole Who Can't Hold His Beer?'

Peter shook his head. 'Nah mate, did you see how she looked at you? She'll be determined either way... tonight you'll be ... my gay cousin Fernando.'

Sirius snorted. He really had missed Pete.

'Fernando huh?' he said laughing.

Wormtail nodded. 'Yeah. Like the ABBA song but gayer, come on!'

He walked behind the excited wizard as they entered the bar and found the unsuspecting trio.

'Ladies,' said Pete in a most gracious tone. 'I apologise for my cousin. His boyfriend just broke up with him and he's being a moody git. Allow me to buy you a round as compensation?'

A look of understanding crossed all their faces and they agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly.

'Three beers then, please?' said Brown Eyes.

'Jolly good!' he exclaimed. 'We'll be right back.'

Without a glance at their direction, Sirius followed behind.

'Jolly good?' he asked as they reached the bar and waited for the barman.

Pete nodded. 'Yeah. Yanks love our accents mate, you know that. Best chance I have with a bird like that is to be as British as possible.'

'As British as possible?' Sirius shook his head. 'What does that even mean?'

'I'm going to be a walking, talking cliché!'

Sirius' lips twitched. 'And saying _"jolly good"_ is a part of that?'

Wormtail nodded to the barman catching his eye. _'Indeed-_ yeah mate we'll have five pints of whatever's cheapest-'

'-four of your cheapest and a pint of Carlsberg!'

Pete turned towards him as the barman went about getting their drinks.

'Just be cool Pads and don't go for the southern, curvy one. She's mine. Be a standoffish arse as much as possible please. With any luck, she'll be put off by you and think me charming.'

Unbelievable as it was, Peter's plan actually worked.

As he sat stoically beside the rat animagus as Pete worked his British charm. Exaggerating as many pronunciations as possible and sounding like the poshest bastard to ever posh, Brown Eyes fell for Wormtail's every word and joke. She'd gone from uncomfortable smiles to coy ones, to playing with her hair to playing with his all while she leant in close to him.

He wasn't too shocked.

It was a truth well known that Yanks loved the _British_ accent.

Even though it was technically English but whatever.

Before he knew it, an hour had passed and Pete was cozied up to the brunette as they whispered to each other. In a room full of drunk and boisterous people, it was difficult to hear what they were saying even with his advanced hearing but their body language said it all.

Pete was gonna get laid.

Brown Eyes barely drank her pint and his sat untouched, abruptly forgotten. Sometime during that time, Hippie Bitch the Sequel had fucked off as well. Feminist and man hating though she may have pretended to be, the tall bitch still hadn't been immune to a bloke she'd come across.

'So this is crap!'

He turned to the Fat One in the Dress.

He nodded once in agreement before reaching for Pete's pint. Cheap it may be but it was still beer.

'So are you really gay or do you just have a stick shoved up your ass?'

He smirked at her over the rim of his glass. 'Yes.'

'I knew it,' she replied with a long suffering sigh and a sad shake of her head.

Fat One moved to the empty seat beside him. 'Look,' she began. 'It's obvious that you want to be here about as much as I do. However, leaving her alone with some guy she's just met isn't groovy if you know what I mean? To make matters worse, I'm bored as hell so let's just make the best of this shit situation. I'm Joanna, here on vacation with my two best friends looking to expand our horizons for the summer. What's your story and real name if you please _Fernando?'_

Sirius blinked. Fat One in the Dress was blunt. He liked that.

'I'm Mathius.'

Fat One reached into her purse pulling out her fags, quickly placing one between her lips and lighting it. She spoke as she exhaled. 'Liar.'

'Excuse me?'

The black haired girl pierced him with her stare. Hazel eyes met his own steel coloured ones. 'I called you a liar cuz you're lying about your name again. Liar.'

He put down the glass and turned to face her. 'Who says I'm lying?'

'No one but your air of indifference says otherwise,' she gestured at him with a flippant hand. 'I mean, look at you. You're not doing much of anything beyond sitting and drinking but unfortunately for your plan, boredom leads to idle watching. Which is what I've been doing and it led me to some very interesting conclusions about you.'

His eyebrows shot upwards into his fringe. 'Oh?'

Fat One nodded, humming. 'You're not gay.'

'Says who?'

'Your eyes. I've caught you checking out some of these girls. Which means you're not gay. Naturally, if you're lying about that, then you're lying about your name too. It's very telling that you don't care about lying to a girl you've just met by the way, hints at a certain level of comfort and ease in the act itself. Once established that you are a pathological liar, I came to the conclusion that there has to be reason why you're still here and it all comes down to your horny friend over there,' she gestured to the whispering pair with sideways nod of her head.

_'So,_ one of two things is happening here: either you're a real ass who takes some weird perverted pleasure in lying to girls to get your way, or you're a guy who lied about his sexuality to guarantee that his less attractive friend got the pretty girl instead of you.' Her eyes ran over his face. 'Which I'm sure happens without you trying, much to your friends' displeasure.'

Her rosy lips puckered around her cigarette as he spoke. 'There could be a third option you know?'

'I know,' she said with an exhale. 'I could be right in that those two things are happening but mistaken in that it's one or the other. You could be the third and slightly more terrifying option in which you're both at once: a pathological liar with enough sense to hold onto your narcissism while compassionate and patient enough to help out your friend.'

'What would I be then?' he asked completely intrigued, smirking.

'Dangerous.'

He shook head, a rueful smile on his lips as he lifted the pint to his mouth. He met her stare as he put down the glass.

'My names Sirius.'

An expected and confused frown settled over her features. He knew what was coming and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to give her his real name.

'... Serious as in quiet and contemplative or Sirius like the star...?'

_Okay that's unexpected._

'The star ... how did you-?'

A throaty laugh escaped the girl. 'I'm an Astronomy major and now I understand why you lie about the name.' She reached for her friends pint, 'Next rounds on me.'

Sirius smiled as the smirk lit up her features beautifully. 'if you insist.'

The evening passed quickly after that. He and Pete dutifully taking the task of introducing the American girls to the joys of a pub crawl. And so, the four of them made their way through several bars and clubs, drinking and singing. On a few cases they'd enjoyed a bit of exuberant dancing that only the confidence of alcohol could bring. Before last call the four were well and truly pissed or as the lovely Jo had plainly stated in her charmingly blunt way. 'Holy shit! 'm drunk as fuck!'

'Food,' Brown Eyes had grumbled after a spectacular bout of vomiting.

As the designated Brits, it fell upon him and Pete to decide where and what to eat. It was unanimously agreed that curry was out of the question.

By the end of the night, they'd all found themselves back at the girls' hotel rooms. Pete in Brown Eye's and he in Joanna's. A pleasurable end to a nearly perfect night.

The war however was never far away. It was gone three in the morning when a nightmare filled with smoke, green flashes and screams woke him. Panting and drenched in sweat, it'd taken him a moment to realise where he was and what he was doing there.

He turned to the girl lying beside him. A full and pale breast shined in the moonlight. The cool air drifting from the window chilled his body.

'You okay?'

'Yeah,' he explained. 'Just a nightmare. Sorry for waking you Jo.'

'It's okay,' she replied. Her voice heavy with sleep, but trying to fight it off a bit longer. She cleared her throat and turned on her back to face him. 'Is it time for you to leave yet?'

Sirius chuckled, not at all surprised by her direct way of approaching sensitive topics, which this technically was. One night stands were always tricky to manoeuvre when the girl was the decent sort and worthy of respect.

'Yeah,' he said with an upturned curve of his lip. 'It's time I head out.'

'Okay.'

An awkwardness hit then and he felt like a spectacular dick.

'Listen, Jo... you'll be in town a bit longer and i think it'd be nice if w-,'

'-Don't Sirius,' she said sitting up, shaking her head. 'Don't cheapen what we had tonight by trying to pull some line on me.'

He shook his head, again completely amazed by this incredible girl whose only fault was that she had horrible music taste.

_Disco, honestly._

Sirius sat up as well, running a shaky hand through his fringe and brushing it back. 'You're right. I'm sorry.'

Joanna nodded at him a smile on her soft and rosy lips. 'Do you need money for a cab or something?'

He shook his head. 'No, I'm good.'

He stood to dress as she sat watching him. He still felt unsure about leaving her like this. He'd expected to leave while she slept which may or may not have made things worse.

'Are you sure this is okay?'

The beautiful smile that was too big for her face was aimed at him again, 'Sirius, we both know what this was. We had fun and you've been a gentleman all throughout so don't feel bad. There are no expectations beyond what we had tonight. It was fun and I'll cherish it always but really, it's okay to go and not feel guilty.'

Sirius nodded. Jo wasn't the type of girl to fuck around he'd come to realise. If he was being honest however, his offer hadn't been made entirely out of guilt. She was fun and easy to get on with. A bit more time with her wouldn't be a bad thing, she'd leave for the States soon enough.

'A pint wouldn't hurt you know?'

Hazel eyes sparkled with the soft glow of moonlight. 'Yes it would. This is my time of exploration Sirius, the last thing I need is you distracting me from that.'

He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant as an image of Marley flashed through his mind's eye.

Pale eyes focused on his zip, he chuckled.

He had to walk across the room for his shirt which was abruptly pulled back on. The silence was thick in the air. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly but it was heavy or maybe it was just him as Jo lay in bed humming some crap tune. He snickered when he realised it was Fernando.

He looked over his shoulder to look at her. Long, black curly hair mussed, large breasts settled over a round and extended belly as she stared him down with a playful glint to her eye. Rose tinted lips pressed firmly together as she waited on his response with an arched eyebrow.

Shoes on and fully dressed Sirius turned sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, one leg on the floor. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it when nothing came out. He swept back his fringe before rubbing at the back of his neck.

Joanna giggled. 'You're an idiot.'

He smirked at her but refused to make eye contact.

'Thanks for having me Jo.'

She nodded. 'Thanks for showing us around, it was fun.'

With a nod and a soft smile, he stood and turned leave.

By the time he left her and collected Pete with a whispered _Alohomara_ and light shaking so as to not wake Brown Eyes, his discomfort had been thoroughly pushed aside and forgotten.

'Cheers for waking me mate,' said a dishevelled but chuffed Peter as he rapidly dressed himself in the hotel's lift. 'If you hadn't, I would've had to go through the whole awkward conversation thing in the morning.' The blonde shuddered. _'Fuck_ that!'

Sirius nodded at his mate, whose exposed gut showed a trail of love bites leading downwards to the crown jewels.

_Way to go Pete,_ he thought biting his bottom lip in an attempt to smother his rising amusement.

The morning air was crisp when they stepped out of the building. The street littered with a few tourists. Wide awake, there was only one thing on his mind.

'Pub?'

Wormtail laughed, nodding. 'Pub.'

The pair walked towards the nearest tree to take advantage of its shadow.

Peter turned to him. 'See you at the Leaky.'

The old bar was empty when they arrived. The firewhiskey exquisite as their conversations grew louder and incoherent. Within the hour Tom had had enough and sent them on their way. The two Marauders didn't mind. Content in drinking from their bottle as they staggered their way down the street.

'N-no but lis_-hic-_ten he could you know? Like, like yeah.'

Sirius snorted into the bottle, tilting his head as far as he could go to get to the bitter and savoury nectar inside. He squinted at it when nothing came, unsteady gaze studying the empty bottle as he tried to figure out why no firewhiskey was coming out of it.

'Ma-te, mate, mate, mmate,' he slurred trying to get Pete's attention.

'Yeah? Ye-_hic_-ah? Yeah? Yeah? Ye-_hic_-ah?'

'Mmate, mate,' Sirius laughed at Wormtail who abruptly stumbled and nearly fell.

He raised his bottle to his lips suddenly remembering what he was going say.

'Thiss bottless broken mate look!' he thrust the bottle under the short bloke's nose for inspection.

Pete nodded once as he swayed, 'Yeah. That smells broken aright. We should - we should fith it. With- with mores alcohol!'

'Don't be stupid!' scoffed Sirius as he pulled out his wand. 'We'll use magic.'

The dog animagus handed the bottle over to Peter.

''Ere,' he mumbled. 'Holds the boddle as I- as I throw magic at you.'

Pete nodded, smiling widely as he raised the bottle to eye level, posing with it in preparation to having his picture taken.

'Cheeee-_hic_-ese!'

Sirius snorted, 'No you idiot! Say- say firewhithkey instead!'

Peter nodded solemnly, 'Okay. 'Mm ready mate. Go.'

'On three yeah? One, two - Mate! I lost my camera!'

'What?'

Sirius shook his head, blurry eyes peering over at Wormtail. 'What?'

The rat animagus snorted, 'Thazz it mate. 'M cutting you off.'

'Thaz fair,' he admitted sadly. 'Let's go home.'

A nearby scream distracted them and the two turned towards the sound. Their humour gone as their suspicion grew. Heart beating, their pleasant haze began to dim as another scream rang out. Wands out, they ran towards it.

Images of silver masks and grey eyes filled his mind's eye and he ran faster.

The sight of a man attacking a homeless woman met them when they turned the corner. Pete didn't say a word as he barrelled into the heavier bloke, punching every inch he could reach. He didn't stop him but turned towards the woman, who in turn ran away as fast as she could. Her trousers ripped. Eyes flashing, Sirius turned just in time to see Peter pulling out his wand and aiming it at the whimpering Muggle.

_'Imperio!'_

Sirius turned to look around them and down the empty street.

'Never, _ever_ put your hands on a woman without her consent,' spat Peter. His wand shaking, eyes blazing. 'Next time you fancy assaulting a woman or you want to force yourself onto one, break a finger. A new finger each time the urge hits. When you've ran out of fingers castrate yourself. Do you understand?'

Sirius took a step towards his mate. 'Pete.'

'Shut up Sirius!' he spat jabbing his wand at the man. _'Do you understand?!'_

The bloke nodded once before Pete turned on the spot and was gone. Sirius was left staring at the slowly blinking man not knowing what to do. He ran his hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the other.

Pete's reaction wasn't new as he'd been witness to it a few times but the rage of it always left him feeling disoriented and confused and very fucking curious.

But he couldn't ask.

Some things weren't meant to be asked about. The fact that Pete held an extreme amount of hatred towards rapists was a perfect example of that. That Pete grew up without a father was another.

With a shake of his head, Sirius spun on the spot and relished in the smell of dirt and moss when they reached his nostrils. The walk to his cabin soothed his rattled nerves as he began to yawn. The image of his comfortable bed was more than welcome.

_It's been a long day,_ he thought to himself.

When his cabin came into view, he groaned at the sight that met him suddenly realising that it'd just gotten longer. A wooden dog came trotting up to him, its knotted tail creaking as it wagged side to side.

Moody had a mission for him.

He should have run off to Potter Hall. He should have told Moody to fuck off with his mission. He shouldn't have given in to the old codger's disparaging remarks.

He didn't do any of those though so once again, found himself under an invisibility cloak protecting the very bitch who had rendered him bedridden for the better part of three days. It'd been two weeks ago and he'd been sure that Moody no longer felt secure in his ability to guard her.

Yet here he was.

Under a crap cloak, sweating, running on no sleep whilst risking his life for some bitch that he didn't know but who seemed to know him. He was not happy.

By midday, his mood worsened and he was ready to fuck off to the pub.

That he was in Godric's Hollow and out of danger helped a bit. Nothing ever happened here. The chance of attack was laughable and it comforted him to know that things wouldn't suddenly get worse.

And then Batty's door opened and _she_ stepped out.

Scowling, she stood on the doorstep and scanned the length of the street. He fought the urge to swear when she began walking his way.

His temper flared with her every step.

The way she walked, straight backed and so bloody proud set his teeth on edge. The haughty bitch continued to glare at nothing and that pissed him off even more.

It was bad enough that he was here, that he had to now chase after her made it fucking worse.

The long haired Marauder glared at her back before he began to walk. He didn't silence his steps this time. If he had to follow her, he'd make damn sure that she knew it.

The sound of his boots scrapping across the cobblestone was extremely satisfying.

Not the sound, the reaction it caused out of the bitch. The first time it'd happened had been completely accidental. Dizzy from lack of sleep and hunger, possibly the drink, he'd stumbled over the cloak. The reaction it'd gotten had been wonderful.

The stuck-up bitch had suddenly stopped and whirled around to glare at the area to the left of him. Eyes scanning the stone, her mouth opening and closing as she fought the urge to berate someone invisible. He'd grinned and had been doing it purposely ever since. Her reactions growing more and more frantic as she walked faster and his scrapping footsteps grew louder.

They were atop Hollybrook Bridge when with one loud and satisfying creak of wood, she'd had enough and reared back at him.

_'Can you keep quiet?!_ It's bad enough I know you're there, I don't need to bloody hear you!'

Sirius flung the cloak off, glaring as he took a step towards her.

He regretted it the moment her eyes widened and she took a step back. The stormy night came back to him. The inexplicable fear that he seemed to bring her clenching his gut.

He was ready to apologise, more than prepared to run away and call for Remus to replace him as long as she didn't look at him that way again.

And then her expression shifted.

Her eyes became slits as her hands clenched into fists.

'What the hell are you doing here?!' she growled, taking a step towards him.

Sirius blinked at the swift change in demeanour.

_Fucking bitch is mad._

Temper rising, he sneered at her. 'Isn't it obvious you daft bitch?'

She shook her head, slamming her eyes shut as she hissed under her breath.

Mad hair that had been permed far too long framed her face. Thin eyebrows, small nose, small tits and not enough hips. Fucking bitch had nothing going for her.

'Go away!' she ordered before walking away. Completely dismissing him.

His mouth fell open. _Who the fuck does this slag think she is?_

'Oi!' he called to her retreating back. 'Cow!'

She stopped at his insult but didn't turn around as he'd expected.

He had to jog a bit to catch up to her and had to walk fast to keep in step with her.

'Who the hell are you?' he demanded. 'And why the fuck are we watching you?'

She didn't answer him, simply hurried up. They'd crossed the town before he realised they were headed to Olde Rosa's.

'Don't act like you can't hear me!' he seethed. Her refusal to acknowledge him irritated him more than anything else. 'Fucking answer me you stupid bitch!'

That did it.

She turned to him, unshed tears framing angry eyes.

'What did you call me?!' she asked through clenched teeth.

'You heard me.'

He could see her struggling. She wanted to say something to him, but she was holding herself back.

She shut her eyes, her whole body shaking with thinly suppressed rage.

'Go. Away!' she ground out. 'And stop talking to me!'

'No,' he said with an intimidating step towards her. 'I don't think I will. Not until you fucking answer me.'

The short witch shook her head taking a step back, glaring at him with so much anger in her eyes it was slightly unsettling. It wasn't going to stop him getting answers though.

'Who the fuck are you?!'

'Leave me alone!_'_

Sirius nodded, 'Want me gone? Tell me what the hell we're doing here and you'll not see or hear from me ever again.'

She didn't say anything, just turned to walk away. He ran after her.

'You're pissing me off bitch-,'

'Don't call me that!'

'I'll call you whatever I damn please bit-,'

Sirius groaned as he fell to the ground, clutching at the side of his head as a sharp pain blinded him. The offending rock that'd hit him rolling innocently away.

Sandaled feet shuffled before him for a bit before quickly walking away.

She'd hit him with a rock.

'Crazy bit- _fuck!'_

Sirius ducked to avoid another rock. He stood eyeing the floating pebbles and stones around them which fell abruptly when she turned the corner. Squib his arse. He shook his head before running after her, the apothecary visible in the background.

'You fucking bi-,' he cleared his throat when he noticed the excess amount of rocks around them.

'You could've killed me!'

She didn't say anything, but she did turn her head.

He'd had enough. Sirius grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, his face lowered to hers.

'Fucking answer me!'

A blow struck him in the chest then and he fell back landing on his arse. Her whole body was shaking and he got the very real sense that he'd gone too far.

_'N__ever_ touch me,' she hissed, her eyes blazing as wind stirred around them.

He'd been through too much to be easily intimidated though. 'Just tell me what I want to know.'

She shook her head, a curl to her lips. 'You're not getting anything from me so you can shut your damn mouth and sod off.'

Damn bitch was pushing him.

'Can't can I? Gotta protect your pathetic arse.'

Angry tears fell as her whole body shook. 'Keep away from me Sirius. I'm warning you!'

Sirius glared at her, seething and aching to punch something. He stood and swept his fringe back as she walked to the back of the shop. She'd said his name again.

He made his way inside the apothecary and found Tony talking to her, gesturing at potion vials opposite them.

He put on his best smile and called out to them.

'There you are!' he said staring at the witch. 'I knew it was you!'

Tony turned around before his eyes moved from him to her, eyebrows raised. Bitch for her part gave him a death glare.

'Sirius!' said the tall bloke taking a step towards him. 'How are you mate? Long time.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled, shaking the older wizard's hand. 'Been busy you know?'

Tony nodded once before turning to the bitch. His gaze traveling back and forth between them before he cleared his throat.

'I didn't think you'd two know each other,' he muttered, a blush beginning to stain the tall man's cheeks as Sirius' smile grew.

_Avoid me now bitch._

'Oh, yeah,' nodded the Marauder. 'We go way back. Went to Hogwarts together. Same house and everything... Ain't that right _Hermione?'_

* * *

She could have slapped him then and there.

Sirius had been pushing her from the moment they met and she'd had enough. She cleared her throat.

'Same house, different years,' she said to Mr. Cox. 'He was a few years above me.'

Mr. Cox nodded as she turned to the annoyance that came in the form of Sirius Black.

'Can I help you with anything Sirius? Need an answer to a question perhaps?' she asked innocently.

His smile turned a bit strained at that and it pleased the hell out of her. It wasn't much of a comeback but it bothered him. That was good enough for her.

She smiled sweetly at him, knowing damn well he couldn't ask her anything without exposing himself or the Order. He was stuck and he bloody well knew it.

Sirius cleared his throat before forcing out another fake smile. He gestured outside. 'No, just wanted to catch up. I'll just wait for you outside.'

Beside her, Tony whistled. 'Sorry to tell you mate, but Hermione's going to be here a bit. She works for me now. first day actually.'

Yet another man she'd have liked to smack. Why he'd felt the need to share that was beyond her. She could have easily agreed and had him wait all day outside. But no.

Hermione took a deep breath. A tight smile directed at the older man. He'd meant well she was sure but right now, he was getting on her nerves.

This was not her day.

First she'd been informed that she had miraculously gained a job curtesy of an old bat who couldn't seem to stop interfering, then she'd been harassed by a bloody moron whom she had no business speaking to, to having her new boss talk about her like she wasn't there.

As far as she was concerned, people needed to go away.

Her head throbbed and she fought the urge to storm out. Nothing good would come of that. Sirius would only follow her, asking her his damn questions. When she got home Batty would be insufferable about her leaving a perfectly fine job or complain about her not wanting to leave the house again while Mr. Cox's opinion of her changed to the point that he would only look at her askance.

She had to stay.

'How fascinating,' deadpanned Sirius.

Mr. Cox nodded in agreement. 'Batty says she's a natural potioneer. Asked me to let her work here and well, here she is!'

The Marauder smiled. 'That was a wonderful story.'

Hermione glared at him. He really needed to go.

'Goodbye Sirius,' she said before turning to the tall man and walking to the back of the shop. 'I'll be working down here you said?'

Mr. Cox didn't seem to find anything wrong and if he did he ignored it. He pointed to the stairs which led down to cellar. Potion fumes reached her before she'd made it to the door.

'Yeah, right down there. Go on and check it out if you'd like.'

She very much wanted to. Not at all bothered by the feel of his gaze on her, she went down the steps content to escape Sirius' suffocating presence.

Their voices followed her downstairs. Muffled, the sound of Sirius' still grated on her nerves.

Hermione took a moment to compose herself when she entered the room proper. Hands on the work table and head bent she took a moment to breathe out her anxiety as she tried to make sense of this chaotic day.

Batty.

All of this began with her.

_You haven't left the house in two weeks Hermione and I don't like that. So, I got you a job. You'll be working for Tony brewing potions. You start in thirty minutes._

That bloody woman.

Just because she hadn't left the house these past two weeks did not mean she was regressing back to her former state of depression. Two weeks was nothing. She'd gone longer than that without bathing. Now _that_ was depression.

Batty didn't understand. She wasn't sad. Quite the opposite in fact, Hermione was pissed _off._

Dumbledore had lied to her.

She'd placed her trust in the man and granted, she had been a mess when she'd arrived here but the least he could have done was be honest with her.

Her cheeks burned when she thought of all those panic attacks she'd had while out with Batty. Those first few steps towards recovery had been horribly traumatic experiences and to think that they'd been witnessed by Batty was horrible enough, to now know they had been seen by another person was mortifying.

That's why she hadn't left the house. Because the knowledge that she'd been stupid and blind was too hard a pill to swallow.

_Harry's tantrum had been completely justified._

Hermione shook her head, lifting her head to study the room around her. The day was crap enough already, the last thing she needed was to think of that.

The cellar was far too cold and not exactly accommodating. It would also explain why his potions weren't as potent as they ought to be.

'The large fluorescent lights couldn't be much help either,' she murmured to herself as footsteps rang above her.

She doubted it would make a big difference but she still wondered if that much concentrated electricity had any particular effect in magical herbs and potion ingredients which, she noted, seemed to be stacked in shelves and tables with no particular order.

The musty smell was not pleasing to the senses either but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't a priority. Hermione sighed as she looked at the disorganized room, realising she would have a lot of work to do. A faint creak of stairs alerted her to Mr. Cox's nearing presence.

'How'd you find it Hermione?'

She turned to her new boss. A tight smile on her lips.

'It's quite cosy.'

Mr. Cox nodded, a proud smile on his face. 'Aye, it's not big but it's mine.'

She smiled at the sweet man who was clearly proud of his small business.

'I'll try to do right by it.'

The tall wizard beamed. 'Thank you, that's all I ask. Now! Batty says you can recite potions off the top of your head so one assumes you can brew just as well?'

A tentative and admittedly, embarrassed smile pulled at her lips to which he laughed. 'I'll take that as a yes. She also tells me you were top of your class and looking into becoming a Potion Master before this damn war started.'

Hermione gave the man a tight lipped smiled and tried not to look as surprised as she felt about her unauthorized biography. Damn woman had absolutely failed to mention any of this. Her anger and annoyance grew a bit more.

'She was also very clear in telling me that you take advantage of her vast library to research foreign potion methods and spells.'

_At least that part was true,_ she thought.

The brunette nodded. 'Batty has a lot of potion books from around the world, it was fascinating so I used them for our potion stores.'

'Yes, that's what Batty had said as well-,'

_Damn woman had said a lot of things._

'How about you brew me three potions to start? A Calming Drought, Blood Replenishing Potion and a Cough Potion? Not the most spectacular of potions, I know- but they are the most common sold here. I'd rather know you can brew those correctly before any others if you don't mind?'

The curly haired witch shook her head, 'No, not at all.'

'Great!' said the wizard with a clap of his hands. 'I'll leave you to it. I'll be upstairs if you need me.'

After a parting smile, a creak of a door and stairs Hermione found herself alone, studying the table before her. Filled with potion ingredients she set out to gather those for the Blood-Replenishing Potion first as it would take the longest.

'Do you think that's something he's had to say to his wife? _It's not big but it's mine?'_

Hermione jumped and just as quickly whirled around trying to find the bloody idiot.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' she hissed, brown eyes running the length of the room.

'Lots.'

She turned right, scanning the corner his disembodied voice had come from.

'Why don't you go away?!' she spat hand outstretched as she attempted to grab at an invisibility cloak.

'Aim higher or you'll be grabbing my dick.'

A snicker rang throughout the cellar and Hermione snapped her hand back as a flutter grazed her left hand.

Hermione spun to her left glaring, 'why can't you leave me alone?!'

'Cos I'm your damn guard aren't I? Can't leave your side under any circumstances. You're too damn precious for some fucking reason.'

She turned to the farthest wall from where he'd spoken, her eyes searching. 'No one's making you stay.'

'Wrong bitch, the Order is.'

A chair to her right moved and she studied the air around it.

'Call me that without your little cover you bloody coward,' she spat, glaring at the chair.

A flash of silvery cloth and then there he was, sat in the stool next to the chair, grey eyes blazing. 'Call me a coward again bitch and you'll fucking regret it.'

'Coward.'

Sirius stood then, slamming his fists into the table opposite he as he did, 'I'm fucking warning you bitch.'

'Or what? You'll curse me?' she taunted, 'Go on then, do it! Curse me Siriu-,'

_'Stop saying my name!'_ he growled through clenched teeth.

'Hermione?' called Mr. Cox from above and both heads turned towards the sound of creaking stairs followed by the door opening. 'Did you call me? I thought I heard you talking?'

She turned to look at Sirius but found him gone. The spot where he'd stood moments before now an empty space. The urge to expose him struck her then and it was overwhelming strong.

The witch shook her head, knowing she couldn't say anything. As annoyed as she was by his voice and presence, she needed him. She may hate the fact, but she knew protection from the Order was necessary.

'I was singing,' she lied forcing a small smile on to her face, looking down at the table hoping to appear embarrassed.

Mr. Cox nodded, his smile real. The man pointed to a small desk on the corner where bits of parchment and pens sat. A radio beside them.

'If you fancy backup singers, the radio's right there.'

No sooner was he gone did the radio come to life with Freddy Mercury's voice ringing out as he proclaimed that fat-bottomed girls made the rocking world go round. She didn't say anything as she collected the items needed, nor did he for that matter.

Mr. Cox's interruption had thoroughly stopped their heated argument dead in its tracks and it appeared that neither she nor Sirius were keen to pick up where they'd left off.

For her part, she just didn't have it in her anymore. She was too exhausted. She'd been angry for two weeks and this row had the potential to go from bad to worse. Which it would if she didn't keep her mouth shut. She was from the future and she knew the risks. There was no excuse good enough to justify talking to him and endangering the world.

Short of him starting on her again, she was fine with this awkward and strained silence.

The young witch picked up the Potioneer's Wand and relished in the small heat that burned up her arm.

Created for the sole purpose of brewing, so as to not exceed the amount of power given to a potion, they were required and mandatory equipment for potion shops. It was made of a substandard wood with an unknown core that released the most minimal bit of magic. There was nothing special about it. Her magic however, didn't know the difference. It still sang.

Though not a real wand, it caused a surge of relief to run through her.

She still had magic. Deep inside her, it was still there.

Hermione set her sights on brewing and ignored everything around her.

Did not so much as flinch when a chair moved across the room and set itself next to the corner desk. She didn't even react when the humidity increased and he appeared from under the cloak red-faced and sweaty. He was there but he may as well not have been for all the acknowledgement she gave him. The only sounds in the cellar were those of the radio and the bubbling potions.

It was as she moved the Cough Potion away from the flames that he spoke again.

'You still didn't answer my question.'

Hermione clenched her eyes shut as her temple throbbed.

_Here we go again,_ she thought.

'I'm not telling you anything Sirius, so just drop it.'

'So you don't think he's ever said that to his wife before?'

The curly haired which furrowed her brow wondering what he was going on about when she remembered his initial question and she shook her head.

'You're disgusting,' she said setting down the pewter cauldron in a dark and cool cabinet.

Sirius shrugged before pulling back his fringe. 'Did we shag?'

Hermione, shocked at the question made to stand. Still under the table, she hit the back of her head. Her eyes watering, she shut the small cupboard door and turned to glare at the idiot.

'What?!'

'Did we shag?'

_'No!_ What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you think that?!'

Again he shrugged. 'Just trying to figure out how you know me is all.'

'I don't know you,' she said a bit too quickly and far too loudly.

Black eyebrows disappeared into dark locks as she opened the door and lifted the cauldron, setting it atop the table beside the Copper cauldron containing the Calming Drought.

'Odd, considering you knew my name the second you saw me.'

Hermione didn't reply. Her mind far too preoccupied with trying to find a reasonable lie. She was drawing a blank and as the seconds grew his smile turned smug.

'Dumbledore told me.'

His smile fell and he nodded not bothering to press the issue. He may have kept quiet but she knew he didn't believe her. This was Sirius Black and he wasn't stupid.

She stood with shaky knees and didn't look up as she began to cut the Valerian Root for the simmering Blood-Replenishing Potion.

'You weren't in Gryffindor.'

Her hand slipped, nearly cutting her finger.

'Yes, because you knew every girl there,' she spat as she renewed her cutting, now much more aggressive than the situation called for.

A husky laugh filled the room. 'Something like that yeah.'

'Why are you here?!' she asked finally looking up, slamming down the knife.

'Why are you?'

She held back the angry tirade that threatened to escape as she turned off the flame. Trembling hands dropped the Valerian Root into the sky blue potion and counted to seven before stirring the potion counter-clockwise three times. By the third stir the potion had turned dark red. Its consistency perfectly mimicking that of blood.

She was done.

Hermione smiled at her small achievements, relishing in the act of three successfully brewed potions.

'Is someone after you? Cos that's the only thing that makes sense. Still wouldn't explain it though. Normally we send people to Order safe houses, not give them their own private guard.'

A twinge of annoyance shot through her before his words settled over her and she remembered the lies and embarrassment. She wanted to ask Dumbledore why he'd lied but he had yet to show his face. The curly haired witch shut her eyes as a familiar tingle began at her centre and spread to her fingertips. The sound of rattling items steadily growing louder.

Sirius at least had the decency to keep his mouth shut as she whispered the Periodic Table of Elements to herself. She could feel his eyes on him and a blush threatened to stain her cheeks as the back of her neck burned. When she next looked up the Marauder was stood on the opposite side of the table, facing her. His eyes piercing hers.

'Who are you and how do you know my name?'

Hermione blinked at the almost pleading tone to his voice. His voice quiet as stormy eyes studied her face.

Straight, black hair fell over his shoulders. A dark fringe above silver eyes. A five o'clock shadow beneath a long nose and high cheekbones. He was very handsome. It was a shame. He'd have been attractive had he been a bit tolerable.

_Seen and not heard would suit him fine._

A creak of stairs and then he was gone, once again invisible beneath a silvery cloak.

'It's been two hours Hermione,' said Mr. Cox upon entering the room. 'The potions should be- Jesus Christ it smells pungent and absolutely foul down here. Just like it ought to!'

The older wizard walked towards her studying the three cauldron before her. He sniffed the first and he looked up at her with a quizzical brow.

'Why does it smell like peppermint?'

Hermione cleared her throat, swallowing the lump that had formed at Sirius' words.

'Peppermint enhances the soothing effect of the Calming Draught while improving the flavour and smell. It doesn't increase it by much but it does make it more fluid-like which adds to the overall experience as taste and smell are known to cause anxiety as well. The peppermint neutralises the unpleasant side-effect of having to take a sludgy potion that bubbles on its way down and smells like dung.'

'Right, yeah. That's a plus I reckon.'

The Muggleborn wizard moved on to the next potion, a glance was thrown her way before he lifted the middle cauldron's lid and began coughing. The smell of rotting fish wafted into his face and he quickly closed down the lid. A purple mushroom cloud dissipating before their eyes.

'Okay,' he said looking at her through watering eyes. 'Why does that smell like that?'

'I added Essence of Trout and a few drops of Boiled Salamander to the solution. The trout enhances the potion's potency so rather than a potion being taken every eight hours, one bottle can be taken every twelve. The salamander doesn't do anything. It just makes the fish smell less pungent.'

Mr. Cox briefly looked horrified as he pointed to the pewter cauldron. 'You meant to tell me that's nothing?'

Hermione nodded. 'Several of the ingredients in the Coughing Potion mix with the tuna to create an unholy odour. The boiled salamander helps a bit.'

Again Mr. Cox gave her a look.

'I'm afraid to lift the lid,' he said with a glance at the gold cauldron.

Hermione shook her head smiling. 'Nothing's been added to it. Blood-Replenishing Potions are too delicate. It's the standard potion.'

With an understanding nod he lifted the lid and his mouth fell open with a startled gasp. Hermione frowned at his reaction and stepped close to peer at the rippling potion.

'It looks like blood!'

The young witch nodded, eyes wide feeling like she'd somehow made a mistake. She hadn't though. She knew she hadn't. Yes it was the most complicated out of three with its ingredients totalling seventeen but it was also the easiest to brew with only three stages. Hermione knew the potion was perfect.

'Oh my God it even smells like blood!'

'I-it's supposed to,' she stammered wondering what she'd done wrong.

'Yeah it is,' laughed Mr. Cox as he shook his head, 'Except mine never has. Colour's always been right but not the consistency and surely not the smell. Jesus, it resembles blood perfectly.'

The tall wizard looked her in the eyes as he spoke.

'May I be frank Hermione?' at her nod he gestured at the cauldrons, 'I shan't be selling these yet. I'll be testing the potions for the next week or so because to be quite honest, I'm not too comfortable with your extra ingredients added to the first two. Not because I doubt your obvious skill, but because I don't know if what you're saying is correct or not. My brewing skills are mediocre at best and I don't know what- if any side-effects will occur and I can't just take your word as gospel. Not in this climate. It's too soon for that level of trust, especially when people's lives are in danger.'

She would be lying if she said his words hadn't stung a bit. It was strange to be not so easily trusted considering who she was but she understood his reasoning.

No sooner had he given his little speech had she been dismissed. Sunday's weren't all that busy and he'd only wanted to test her ability which, he stated, she'd passed with flying colours.

No sooner had she walked out the shop door, did Sirius reappear causing her to groan.

'Where'd you learn to brew like that?'

And just like that, her previous tension returned as the dog animagus renewed his attack.

She'd ignored him the best she could but by the time they'd reached the bridge, she'd had enough.

'Shut. Up!' she growled, whirling around to face the Marauder. 'You're not supposed to talk to me!'

'Yeah? Neither are you.'

She blinked once before slowly nodding. 'You're right.'

The brunette turned around and continued her walk, determined to ignore the stupid boy but he was making it extremely difficult.

'What makes you so fucking important? Honestly, how can you be a threat to anyone? You can't even do magic properly. I've seen you ask a fucking house-elf to do it for you. That night when your purse ripped while you were out picking some Moonshade? You summoned him to fix it. Had me thinking you were a Squi-,'

From the corner of her eye she saw him get thrown against the wall. Held there by an invisible force, he struggled to break free as windows around them shook.

'What the fuck are you doing?!'

_'-Stop talking to me!'_ she yelled as she turned to face him, her whole body trembling. 'You _vile,_ disgusting- how _dare_ you?'

Her head was aching, thick tears blurred the world around her and she wanted nothing more than to make him eat his words.

Brown curls swirled around her. Her fingertips prickled as her chest burned and her heartbeat throbbed in her ears.

It was his choking coughs that brought her back.

She blinked and the world cleared. Grey, frantic, eyes saw through her as booted feet kicked at the ground. Hermione stumbled backwards and he fell to his knees, gasping.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered, completely horrified. 'I'm sorry.'

She ran. Turned the corner, cut through the cemetery, past the old church and felt a sense of relief as she passed the Order safe house. She was almost home.

A hard form slammed into her and pressed her to the wall.

Eyes wide she stared into a set of pale eyes.

'Who the fuck are you?!'

She didn't respond, too shocked by the fury in his tone. He began shaking her, repeating his question over and over again.

Hermione shoved him away with all the force she could muster, her fear growing when he didn't budge. Her fingertips grew hot and a shock rippled from her chest to her hands. With a final shove and a cry of pain, Sirius stumbled backwards. Her hand flew through the air and with a resounding smack, connected with his face.

Weak knees threatened to buckle from under her as she turned the corner running. The bright red door was steps away when she again felt his hands grab her upper arms.

He spun her around as Hermione fought him. A cry of pain escaped her lips when he slammed her into the door and the doorknob dug into her spine.

'I'm not going to die for you you bitch!' he whispered. Face inches away from hers, his voice was harsh and unforgiving. 'I will not fucking _die_ protecting you! Tell me who the fuck you are! _Tell me!'_

The sound of running footsteps echoed around them but Hermione barely heard them through the sound of her own ragged breaths.

She felt all the rage and hatred come to the surface. 'No.'

'Pads! _What the fuck?'_

She didn't look away from him when Remus appeared. The werewolf was nothing but a blurry mass who struggled to pull Sirius away from her.

Hermione barely registered the door opening or Batty's voice.

'What the hell is going on here?'

Her whole world revolved around a set of grey, hate-filled eyes.

Hermione licked her dry lips as Batty yelled, Remus pulled and Sirius fought the werewolf's strong grip.

Everything fell silent and both Marauders stopped struggling when she took a step towards the black haired Marauder. Her face once again inches from his as the world faded away.

'Touch me again,' she hissed through clenched teeth, 'And you'll regret it!'

The brunette stared into his eyes for a second longer before spinning on her heel and slamming the door in his face.


	9. Control

Thanks to Dave for betaing this chapter in record time. Also for the writing tips. Those little bastards help.

* * *

**Silver**

Control

* * *

Angry tears streaked down her face as Hermione stormed her way into the sitting room, Batty following behind.

'Hermione! What the fuck was that?!'

The curly haired witch paced the room as Batty and Hooky's eyes followed her every move. Her shallow and rapid breaths the only sound in the room as Sirius' voice echoed in her head.

_I will not fucking die protecting you!_

Adrenaline coursing through her veins fuelled her anger. Restlessness demanding she do something. Hermione's body trembled and vibrated with barely contained rage.

She wanted to punch something. To scream out all her frustrations and to curse someone.

No. Not someone.

Sirius Black.

The damn Marauder who'd dared to interfere with her newly settled existence. Who'd destroyed her illusion of comfort and safety by crashing into her life with the force of a freight train. He'd successfully ruined the bit of peace she had found and she wanted nothing more than to make him pay for his intrusion.

'Hermione!'

A stinging jolt to her arm caused her to flinch and she rubbed at the spot as the pain spread. She stopped pacing as her gaze settled over the smaller witch and the house-elf stood at her side as items around them shook violently.

'Stop it,' ordered Batty.

Hermione shook her head as she began to pace once more. Heat raced down her back as falling tears continued to trail down her cheeks. Her fingers prickling. Palms tingling. Her anger building.

'Fucking control yourself!'

'Stop yelling at me!' she snarled as her magic flared.

Unlit candles burst into flame. Red orange fire that flashed blue and purple gave life to dancing shadows on the walls. Something broke in the kitchen and the noise abruptly stopped. There was a moment of complete silence before chaos erupted around them once more.

The young witch slammed her eyes shut and bit her lip as the sounds around her multiplied. She struggled to think as potion ingredients moved no further than the tip of her tongue. The glass door behind her shook harder, emitting a loud bass as its metal frame creaked.

'Miss Hermione should breathe!'

She couldn't stop it. There was too much noise.

'Please stop,' she begged, her anger morphing into fear.

_I will not fucking die protecting you!_

'Batty.'

'-Don't make me curse you!'

They needed to stop talki- they weren't helping. Everyone was too loud. They were yelling and the noise was too mu-

'Shut. _UP!'_

Her gut clenched painfully as her body found its own way to release all her pent-up emotions. Her temple throbbed, her lungs burned and she felt weightless seconds before her dormant magic crackled out of her.

All noises within the room stopped. Everything within a few feet of her was rendered mute though they continued to shake.

Her belly cramped and she choked back a sob as the room spun and she swallowed thickly. She felt drained and weak kneed. She was clammy and cold sweat mixed with her heated tears. The brightness of the room too much for her sore eyes and aching head.

Hermione glared at the still burning candles. Their flames higher than what could be deemed safe. Their colours other worldly. Wild and uncontrolled. Just like her magic.

The young witch raised her hand and with a hasty, sweeping motion the candles blew out in a vortex of roaring flame.

She turned to Batty and found the old witch staring at her. Pale, sea green eyes wide and bright.

Anger satisfied, quiet surrounding her, her mind was able to clear. With it, her physical aches became more prominent. Hermione fought the urge to vomit as the room tilted around her. Large, cold and calloused hands pulled at her, guiding her to the nearest seat.

The silence continued and she looked up to find Batty pointing her wand at her own throat. Her mouth opening and closing as she tried to speak but no sound came out.

The curly haired witch shut her eyes and began to count. By the time she reached thirty the sounds had returned, when she reached seventy-three, all the rattling had stopped.

'I need to talk to Dumbledore,' she said to no one in particular as she stood.

The tiny witch nodded. 'Okay. We'll send him an owl and ask hi-,'

'-No. He's seeing me. Now.'

Batty's white eyebrow shot upwards as her eyes sparkled. 'He's a busy man Hermione.'

'I don't care,' she replied.

The brunette was well beyond caring in fact. Once again her life had been uprooted and turned on its head. She wasn't going to sit quietly by and allow it. Not this time. Not anymore.

'He doesn't have a choice,' she said, her open hand directed towards the small elf. 'He's seeing me whether he wants to or not. Hooky, take me to the Headmaster's office.'

Hooky hesitated. The small house-elf shifted from one foot to another his big, floppy ears wiggling. He was clearly uncomfortable with the request. Again, she didn't care.

She snapped. 'Hurry up!'

He jumped and had she been in her right frame of mind, she may have felt guilty but as it stood, his anxiety only worked to annoy her further. Hooky quickly made his way towards her. Batty watched, her face blank.

Hermione reached for Hooky's hand and turned to the witch as she spoke. 'We'll be back soon.'

The older woman nodded, 'I'll start preparing tea. It'll be ready when you get back.'

As the tiny witch moved towards the kitchen, Hooky squeezed her hand. 'On three Miss Hermione. One, two, three...'

With a deep breath, she felt the tell-tale sign of Apparation as darkness pulled at her and the crack of air rushing in to occupy her vacant space, rang in her ears.

Pressure closed in around her and though it was a familiar, her heart still beat a little faster. The realisation that it had been a long time since she'd Apparated came quick and panic threatened to build and spill over as the seconds passed. Hermione fought the urge to open her eyes. Her chest was burning with the need to take in oxygen, pressure within her lungs building as she fought the instinct to breathe. It was with a deep intake of air that she met the blissful feel of hard stone beneath her feet.

'What the bloody hell?!'

Hermione turned towards the voice and her jaw unhinged with shock at the woman before her.

Minerva McGonagall, caught completely unaware, had managed to stand and aim her wand at her while still holding onto her tea. The elder witch's mouth open as her eyes ran the length of her and moved from her to Hooky.

The two women stared at each other and though the older woman's younger appearance registered all Hermione could think was, _Did the Professor just swear?_

'Hermione, what a pleasant if unexpected surprise.'

The younger witch turned to the Headmaster sat behind his desk. Dressed in light grey, satin robes, glasses edging the tip of his nose, he was not at all shocked by her sudden appearance. If anything he looked amused. Her anger spiked.

'We need to talk.'

A single white eyebrow twitched as he nodded at her. His face perfectly blank. From the corner of her eye she saw Professor McGonagall's mouth fall open with an indignant gasp, no doubt shocked by the venom she'd heard in Hermione's voice.

'Of course. Minerva if that is all? I have an important and spontaneous meeting to attend.'

'What?!' The older witch gaped as she turned to the powerful wizard, wand still aimed at her chest. 'What the hell is going on here Albus? Who is she and how the hell did she just Apparate in here?!'

'Minerva, please.'

The stern witch, too surprised by the turn of events, stood rooted to the spot. Anger flashed through the woman's features as her mouth set into a firm and familiar line, nostrils flaring. With a reluctant nod, the witch stored her wand and set down her cup. Calculating eyes passed between her and Dumbledore.

'I'll be in my office should you need me,' she said to Dumbledore, dark eyes trained on her.

Hermione didn't look at the older witch, her unexpected presence too much like a shock of ice sliding down her back. It'd brought her back to the present and she suddenly remembered who she was, whom she was going to confront and what it meant. Intimidation settled at the pit of her stomach. Possibly dread.

Black robed and straight backed, the Scottish woman made her way out of the room shutting the door behind her with an audible click but not before sending them all a suspicious look.

'I shall pay most dearly for that.'

The curly haired witch turned to face the powerful wizard. His pleasant and conversational tone grated on her nerves and her hands curled into fists. There was a small cry by her left knee. Hermione quickly released her hold on Hooky, apologetic eyes looking down at him.

'I'm sorry,' she said to the small elf.

Hooky shook his head. 'No sorry needed Miss Hermione. I'll be helping down at the kitchens, you calls when you's done yelling.'

Hermione squared her shoulders after Hooky Disapparated and turned to the wizard who sat behind his stately desk, studying her with an infuriating twinkle in his eye.

'You've had me followed,' she said without preamble or hesitation.

Dumbledore continued to watch her before nodding slowly. 'I have.'

A new jolt of anger coursed through her and she rejoiced in it. The reckless confidence it gave her would guarantee she saw her point through. A familiar prickle began at her core and it took all her strength to stomp it down. It wouldn't do to lose control. As it was, the pain in her head was becoming unbearable. Anymore magical outbursts and she'd be stuck in bed for days again. Hard eyes met his.

'And you didn't think to tell me?'

Bright blue eyes scanned her face and for a fraction of a second, Hermione thought she'd seen his eyes flash with some odd emotion. His lips twitched behind steepled fingers and she fought the urge to rage at him.

'At the time I felt that it was for the best that you not know.' He watched her for a second before asking her the damn question she'd asked herself earlier, 'Do you think I made a mistake Hermione?'

No. She didn't think he'd made a mistake but that didn't lessen the fact that she should have been told. It was _her_ life being toyed with. _Her_ life he was manipulating and controlling with the skilful hands of a puppeteer. She deserved to have control of her own decisions and to be made aware of the choices that affected her and those around her.

Yes, she needed protection but she would have still liked to know about it. She would have appreciated being kept informed. After all, no one liked having information kept from them.

_Tell me who you are you bitch! I will not fucking die protecting you!_

The spots where Sirius had grabbed her suddenly throbbed as a hint of sympathy bloomed in her chest, quickly replaced by self-hatred. She didn't want to feel anything towards the abusive arse. Hermione understood his need for answers a bit more now but that didn't mean she was pleased about it or that she'd agreed with his methods. As it was, she felt dirty for that momentary slip of compassion.

'Does it matter what I think?' she asked through barely moving lips. 'I was under the impression that my feelings meant nothing.'

The Headmaster refused to be goaded or pulled into her line of questioning.

'You're angry with me.'

Brown eyes turned to slits. 'Nobody likes being lied to.'

'I didn't lie.'

'No. You just kept vital information from me, which may as well be the same thing!'

Hermione tried to tame the tirade threatening to escape but it was hard. His unrepentant demeanour told her everything she needed to know: He had known she'd be upset and he hadn't cared.

'I thought it best for all parties involved that you remained unaware,' said Dumbledore calmly.

_'It's my life,'_ hissed Hermione, taking a step towards him. 'I should know more than anyone else.'

He didn't say anything, just continued to watch her with that same blank look full of infinite patience. Her temple throbbed and Fawkes let out a quiet squawk.

'Would you have been able to handle it Hermione? The knowledge that you were being followed and watched at a time when simple eye contact was beyond you?'

Hermione licked her lips. He was right and she knew it, but still. He had no right to do what he pleased with her life.

Her palms tingled and she wanted nothing more than to have him feel like she did. She hated the reasonable part of her that knew he was right. She grudgingly accepted his reasoning. She absolutely loathed herself for seeing his point and she hated him for making her see it. All of this led back to him, she realised with a sudden jolt. _He_ had requested a Time-Turner for her. _He_ had to have been the reason it was never cleared. _He_ was the one hiding secrets. Always hiding, always manipulating and she was just one of his many pawns.

'It was not your choice to make,' she said through clenched teeth.

His calm and soothing tone didn't change, 'I disagree.'

Her thinly held control snapped and the candles flared. The older wizard didn't so much as blink when the flames began to crackle.

'It's not your life,' she growled, her voice trembling with rage. 'It's mine Dumbledore. _Mine_ and you have no right!'

'It's not just your life Hermione, not anymore.'

Her hands shook and she fought back stinging tears, fingertips trembling, chest heaving. The brunette shook her head and brown curls danced. She hadn't come here for this. She hadn't wanted to hear this from him. Not these truths she'd ignored with a religious fanaticism. Hermione knew her life was no longer her own. She may have known it the second she set foot in this cursed time, that didn't mean she wanted to hear it.

'-I'm allowed respect!'

'Respect yes, but not complete trust.'

The brunette swallowed a painful lump as silver items behind him rattled and the room spun. Her right hand twitched and instinctively curled in search of an invisible wand. She became aware of her actions only after his eyes fell on her hand. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

'I deserve both.'

The Headmaster's tone had yet to change. 'You've earned neither.'

Hermione blinked and her next words died away, long before they were fully formed. Betrayal, hurt and anger flooded her. Something must have shown in her face because the older man lowered his penetrating gaze. That small act infuriated her further. She didn't want his guilt or worse, his _pity._

'And you have?' she barked, eyes blazing and rimmed with angry tears.

'No, I most certainly have not,' he answered with a shake of his head. Bright eyes sought her own, 'Forgive me Hermione. That was uncalled for. It has been a long day and my temper has grown short. I apologise.'

She didn't say anything. Her mind reeling from the ugly truth of his previous statement. Once again Albus Dumbledore was right and yet again, Hermione had forgotten her situation.

She felt _so incredibly_ foolish. All this time she'd been expecting nothing less than the level of treatment given to her before while overlooking very important details: This Dumbledore didn't know her and she'd done nothing to earn his respect or to gain his trust.

Whatever regard he'd hold for her didn't exist yet. She'd mistakenly assumed that it wouldn't be any different but clearly, she had been very wrong.

This was not the same man she had known ... and she'd forgotten that.

When Hermione looked at him she saw a hybrid between the wizard she had known and the man she had recently met, in a singular body. She had assumed and expected him to know her when it couldn't be the further from the truth. The powerful wizard knew nothing of her past - his future - and therefore saw her as nothing more than a mission, possibly a threat.

Her belly ached with sudden clarity.

'Is that what this is about?' she asked, fists clenched. 'You've had Sirius and Remus follow me to keep an eye on me?'

White eyebrows twitched at the two Marauder's names.

'Not at first,' he answered. 'I confess that in the beginning it was for your safety but it soon became evident that your actions were better monitored. You have a certain air of independence that coupled with your obvious intelligence, could only be construed as a threat Hermione.'

The brunette bit her lip hard. _So that's it,_ she thought, _he wants me accounted for at all times and well under his thumb._

'I'm not dangerous,' she spat, a hollow ache burning in her chest.

The sense of betrayal she felt grew and a traitorous tear fell. She quickly wiped it away.

'Forgive me my dear, but you are.'

The level of certainty in his voice gave her pause. He really believed that and though she hated to admit it, it _hurt._ The pain itself was unexpected and Fawkes trilled from somewhere above them. A comforting heat settled over her, soothing her throbbing head and aching heart. She licked her dry lips and had to steady herself before speaking.

'I don't want them following me anymore,' said Hermione, her voice shaky. 'Get someone else I don't care who but not the Marauders.'

'You have no say in this Hermione.'

Silver trinkets clanked and books behind him toppled over with a lazy flop.

'I have more right than you,' she growled, her body trembling with sudden rage.

The windows shook and the paintings of long dead Headmistresses and Headmasters grumbled, stating their obvious displeasure at having their frames bang against the stone wall. She was sore all over and her body felt strained from holding back.

The curly haired witch glared. 'I want them gone by tonight!'

The older wizard remained calm and she hated him for it.

'It is not your place to make demand-,'

_'-It's my life!'_ she yelled, her chest heaving. Sight blurred from heavy tears that she refused to let fall. 'And you have no right making decisions for me! You want me followed? _Fine._ But I won't tolerate them following me one second longer!'

'It has to be them.'

The pounding in her head returned. Fawkes' song no longer effective.

'Why?' she asked sharply.

'Because I now know they can be trusted.'

His response was so ridiculously unexpected that she huffed a laugh. It was completely void of all humour.

'What you know Dumbledore could fill a cup.'

Blue eyes flickered in the candlelight and his long beard twitched. For the first time, his cool facade fell and he looked almost dangerous. Hermione blinked and the look was gone, his expression once again neutral. Blank.

'I saw Remus and Sirius in your memories,' he explained, calm and comforting again. 'Older and haggard but very much loyal. At this time, surety of one's loyalty is rare. My Order members are brave and powerful but very much human and easily manipulated. You, my dear, are far too important to place under just anyone's care. Knowing that the Prewetts will die for our cause made my choice easier: I felt confident in their sincerity to protect you. That they knew of you helped. Unfortunately, we are at war and they are two of our best fighters. Gideon specialises in mission planning you see and Fabian is a master at charms - they are vital members. Alastor, doubly so ... I needed others to look after you when their services were required, which soon became frequently. Protection for you during such times is important but difficult to decide upon because your safety would then become compromised. What I needed was trustworthy Order members whom I knew were loyal to the very end and that is when I recalled two familiar, able-bodied members. I'd seen them talking to you alongside a teenage boy who resembles a close friend. They called him Harr-,'

Her magic reacted almost instantly. Windows rattled and books flew off bookcases. Shaking items clanked to the stone floor and torches flared to life with blood red fire.

_'-DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM!'_ she roared, all self-control gone. 'DON'T YOU _EVER_ TALK ABOUT HIM TO ME!'

Dumbledore once again didn't react and it only infuriated her more. How dare he be so calm, so quiet when he had no right to be? Hermione wanted nothing more than to hear remorse and shame in his voice, to receive an apology and agreement to do as she demanded - but not this.

Not to have logic and reason as his weapon of choice. Or to have Harry's name casually mentioned, like he was just another random person with a random name when he'd been anything but.

_I'd been expecting too much,_ she thought bitterly.

'You think you have everything under control,' spat Hermione. Palms tingling. Her fingertips prickling. 'You have no say in anything Dumbledore and nothing you do will change that. You're no different than me, the only difference lies with your delusions of power. You sit there behind your desk, making plans, toying with lives for _The Greater Good_ but at the end of the day you're just a man. A man who makes mistakes with an illusion of free will. Ariana and Grindelwald were just the beginning of your failures Dumbledore but I'll be damned if I become another casualty! I'm not yours to manipulate and I won't let you do to me what you did to Harry!'

Her voice caught in her throat as the enormity of her words slammed into her.

All noises stopped. Her magic ebbed and Hermione held her breath.

Warm tears caressed the edge of her open mouth, frightened eyes stared at the powerful wizard who was suddenly very alert and piercing her with a look she didn't care to identify.

She saw the question in his eyes and her stomach clenched.

_Who's Harry?_

The young witch shut her eyes as she fought the urge to flee. No longer interested in yelling, she wanted nothing more than to escape the Headmaster's overwhelming presence.

_Hungry. He'd looked hungry._

She tasted bile at the back of her throat. The young witch flinched when he cleared his throat.

'I will release Remus and Sirius immediately if that is what you truly want. I only ask that you reconsider your stand on this. They are powerful and can be trusted at a time when our options are limited.'

As sound as his explanation had been, it wasn't good enough. They had to be removed from guarding her. Their lack of trust in each other and failed decisions played too grand a part in the story that was to become Harry Potter's destiny.

The Marauders had to grow apart. Remus had to suspect Sirius. Sirius had to suspect Remus. Wormtail had to betray them. The Potter's had to die and Harry had to become a Horcrux.

The future had to unfold as planned.

A long forgotten memory came to mind. Of her and Harry sitting underneath a tree, watching from afar as their hours-younger selves fought with the Whomping Willow before disappearing under its shallow path as Harry's Invisibility Cloak lay forgotten on the ground. Harry had been eager to grab the cloak but she'd held him back. Within minutes the Headmaster and Fudge had passed them, soon followed by a drunken Hagrid.

If that day had taught her anything, it was that everything happened for a reason.

'I want them gone.'

The Headmaster nodded. 'Very well. I'm afraid however, that this leaves me with a reduced number of Order members whom I can trust to guard you. As I've mentioned, those charged with your care are high ranking members with immense value to our cause.'

Her head ached, a dull pain building behind her eyeballs.

'Batty thinks you have other measures in place to protect me besides my guard.'

The man nodded, unabashed. 'She would be correct.'

'In that case, I suggest one Order member and as a precaution I could begin carrying a Portkey with me.'

The Headmaster nodded.

'Yes, that had been an option at one point but there were too many variables and what ifs to consider with that plan. Several things could go wrong and the best defences will always lead back to a skilled duellist.'

Hermione turned to the window, brown eyes taking in the inky blackness with a sense of wonder that made her feel small. When she left Godric's Hollow the sun had just begun to set, here the night had long ago staked its claim.

'Is there a specific reason why you don't want them watching over you Hermione?'

And there it was, an opening to reveal her secrets. The chance to tell the truth and be vindicated and saved from any sense of guilt.

She was tempted. _So very tempted_ to open her mouth and cleanse her soul. To rid her mind of the constant fear that plagued her and to have her burden become his because she knew it would have. As sure as she was that she didn't belong here, she was more so sure of the fact that he would act and relieve her of all this unwanted responsibility.

Isn't that what she'd been saying to herself all this time? That the world's burden was not her weight to bear?

_But perhaps it is,_ her mind countered. Maybe it was her responsibility to keep quiet and see it all through. Her world was all the better for any and all sacrifices made and one mistake could unravel it all.

'No,' she finally answered, her voice quiet as the world's weight once again settled on her tired shoulders. 'There's no reason at all ... They just make me remember things. Things I'd rather not think of.'

He didn't believe her, the silence that followed her statement evident of the fact but she didn't care. If she was honest with herself, she wanted him to see through her lies. Perhaps then he'd ask her his question again and she'd answer honestly, relieving herself of her heavy burden.

Except he didn't. He didn't ask and the world's weight suddenly felt heavier.

'Very well Hermione, if that is all?'

She left Hogwarts with a feeling of failure. She had accomplished what she'd wanted but gained no satisfaction. Hermione felt like she had achieved nothing. The young witch felt much like she had during her capture, when she'd begged for water; her thirst, unquenched.

'You look shit,' said Batty.

'Thank you,' replied Hermione as she made her way towards the stairs.

She needed sleep, the dull throbbing in her head had become too much and she was tired. It'd been such a long day.

'Wait!'

Hermione stopped mid-step, half-way up the stairs when she turned to look down at the tiny witch.

'What happened?' she gleefully asked. 'Did you yell at him?'

Hermione shook her head at the wide smile on Batty's face as soft green eyes sparkled. Too tired to be annoyed at the older witch's antics, she sighed as she sat on the step, her legs aching.

'Yes,' she breathed out, pressing down on her eyes, taking pleasure in the momentary release of pressure. Migraines were weird. 'I got what I wanted. Sirius and Remus won't be following me anymore.'

Batty's eyebrows shot upwards. 'He _agreed?'_

She nodded, pulling herself up and making her way up the stairs again. 'Yeah.'

'But - _wait!_ What do you mean? What did he say?'

The older witch's steps followed her and Hermione fought the urge to cry. She was so tired.

'Sirius and Remus are gone, I'll have one guard and carry a Portkey with me.'

She opened her door as Batty stopped at her side.

'Just like that? No argument, no reason, no ulterior motive just ... yes?'

'I guess,' she mumbled, tired eyes staring at her bed.

'Alright, yeah.'

The young witch stepped into her room and shut the door behind her.

'I'm going to go talk to Albus Hermione,' Batty said through the closed door. 'Nothing about this sits with me!'

Hermione threw herself onto her bed, a pleased sigh escaping her as the cool softness settled over her. She opened her mouth to call out a reply but her words failed her as merciful sleep pulled her under.

* * *

'What the fuck is wrong with you?!'

What he'd said to Hermione came to mind. _Lots._

Sirius wondered how true that was as Remus glared at him. The werewolf vibrated with anger. How much longer before Remus decked him? Amber eyes flashed gold with the last rays of light peaking over the horizon. Not long.

He didn't blame Moony. He'd gone too far. That was for damn sure.

_What the fuck?_

She'd pushed him too much and he'd snapped. It was her fault if she'd just backed off...

He deserved to be punched.

'Are you fucking stupid?!'

_Possibly. Maybe._ Yes.

'What the fuck were you thinking attacking her like that?'

He hadn't been thinking. With her choking and … ignoring him! She didn't give him answers and - he was losing it. He was finally losing it and soon enough he'd turn into Benjy and that'd be it.

He could've hurt her. Really, _really_ hurt her. If it hadn't been for her magic and Remus he might've ... Fuck! He didn't know what he might've done. He didn't know and that scared the fuck out of him.

Fuck this war. He couldn't take it anymore. He'd find a way to convince the others to come with him. They'd all set off and never come back and fuck this war, he was done. It was too much.

'Pads!'

He blinked. He'd been staring at Moony. He shook his head once before walking away. Back towards his post at the end of the street.

'Sirius! What the fuck...?'

His feet dragged, his neck was sore and aching. It hurt to swallow. His hands shook and his head throbbed. Remus' eyes were trained on his back.

He'd wanted to hurt her.

He was finally losing it.

Madness had always run rampant in his family. A penchant for violence was practically a birth right and for all his hard work to run away from his name, he was turning out like them after all.

_You'll always be a Black, cousin. Nothing can change that._

The hours passed by and he didn't realise it until a set of ginger heads appeared next to him. The Marauder hadn't heard them approach, too lost in his own thoughts.

First he'd assaulted the girl he had promised to protect and then he'd let down his guard. He really was shit at this. Sirius had never struck a woman, not even Bella despite the temptation, but this time ... he'd wanted to. Fucking hell, he'd wanted to. Would he have been able to stop himself? He didn't know. _Fuck_ \- He didn't know.

He had to be removed from this mission. It was too hard. No, too _easy_. Maybe that's why it had him on edge. If Sirius had learned anything while fighting this damn war, it was that nothing was this simple.

Except in battle where choices were simple: fight or die.

Here though, there were no clear options and he didn't know how to handle the normalcy of it. You couldn't just go from fighting for your life one day to standing still and doing nothing the next. You couldn't. All he knew was paranoia at this point and really, he wasn't so much as guarding her as he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

'Remus? Is that you mate?'

Sirius flung off the cloak and the bloke's warm greeting turned ice cold within seconds. Gideon then. Sirius groaned. He was not in the mood to mock the antagonising bastard. Not today. He was liable to snap again.

'Hurry the fuck up Black. Moody wants to speak with you.'

He didn't respond. Sirius had never got on with the orang-utan. From the word go, in fact. No real reason behind it, just cos. Whereas he and Fabian had become instant mates.

Sirius glared at the shorter prick and shoved the invisibility cloak into the man's chest, making sure to add enough force to it that the orange twat stumbled.

The older wizard glared daggers at him and Sirius saw the bloke's left hand twitch. He smirked at the bastard before walking away, making sure to bump his shoulder.

'Watch it arsehole,' growled the ginger nuisance.

He could hear Remus behind him and Sirius inwardly groaned knowing what was coming.

'Pads.'

He sped up a bit after he turned the corner.

'Sirius.'

Blossom Grove appeared in the distance and he fought the urge to run towards it.

'I'm fucking talking to you!'

Remus' footsteps were getting closer, trapping him.

'Stop!'

The garden gate was cool to the touch. He opened it as he moved past the house's stinging wards. He made his way towards the back of the house through a separate gate and entered the garden. Clearly magical, the large garden walls were far from visible as they surrounded a Quidditch field sized garden. Filled with colourful plants, both magical and Muggle alike, the garden was beautiful and quite peaceful but it was the trees themselves that had given this Potter home its name. Cherry Blossom trees danced in the summer breeze as roses and other flowers swayed near his feet. A wave of colour that he didn't pay attention to as he briskly walked towards the farthest corner to stand beneath cascading branches of soft pink. The only Apparation point located within the village, it had been created by Dumbledore for the use of those guarding Hermione. Sirius turned on the spot the second Remus pulled aside the falling branches.

He smelt the rain and wet earth long before he felt the drizzle hit his skin. The canopy of trees above protecting him somewhat as he walked towards his cabin. Every so often large drops of collected rain would fall on his head and shoulders. The cold water not all together uncomfortable as the heat of Godric's Hollow lingered on his skin.

Sirius heard a crack of Apparation behind him and without conscious thought, took off at a run. Heart racing, hands shaking, he struggled to breathe as he stumbled his way through the rapidly darkening woods.

He felt like prey as Remus chased after him. His panting breaths loud in his ears as the odd swishing of leaves followed in his wake.

'Sirius! Fucking _STOP!'_

The wizard flinched at the noise and hid behind a tree trunk, ducking his head instinctively as he reached for his wand. Cries of pain and fear reverberated around him. The air thick with magical residue, smoke and the scent of blood. Sweat pooled on his upper lip. Sirius clenched his fist around his wand and held his breath, ready and waiting.

The scent of blood and beast intensified and mixed with the distinct earthy smell that were his woods. The young Marauder shut his eyes, letting his head drop against the tree trunk steadying him. The familiar odours centered him and Sirius loosened his grip as Remus' heavy footsteps stopped. The werewolf's breaths loud as he fought the overwhelming urge to run away. He could feel Remus watching him. Sweat ran down his back.

'I thought you weren't scared,' mocked Remus.

Grey eyes shot open and he glared at the taller wizard.

'Fuck you,' he growled.

The tall bloke chuckled, amber eyes glittering.

'What's wrong Pads? Scared of the big bad wolf?'

He didn't reply. Sirius pushed against the tree and studied his surroundings, searching for a familiar landmark between the tall trees and mossy ground. To his left, he found a huge boulder and automatically knew where he was. They were thirty or forty minutes away from the cabin. How fast had he been running?

'So what excuse do you have for that shit back there? Cus we both know you'll try and find one. It's what you do. You cock up and then bullshit your way out of it.'

He didn't turn to look at Remus when he began walking. He had nothing to say and he didn't need a sermon. He already knew he'd fucked up. Remus didn't need to point it out.

The black haired wizard glared into the distance when he heard the werewolf follow him. He bit down on the back of his teeth when the bloke began to speak, his voice casual and damn near cheerful.

'Proud of yourself mate?'

Sirius turned his head away from the bloke, fighting down the urge to snap at him. He wasn't going to be goaded by the bastard. The dog animagus kept his brisk pace as the light began to fade.

'-I mean, you did just manhandle a defenceless, scared girl.'

He walked faster and clenched his fists when Remus did the same. Wishing the werewolf would just fuck off.

'Did I tell you she's Muggleborn?'

With a huff and a glare, Sirius jumped over a fallen tree stump and stumbled when his foot caught on a branch.

Remus on the other hand didn't struggle. He heard the lanky wizard snicker and the temptation to flatten him grew.

'That day I followed her to the shop? I heard her talking to Mr. Levi. She mentioned being Muggleborn.'

The black haired wizard tripped again and he spun around to glare at the unknown object. Grey eyes scanned the pitch black ground but found nothing. Moony quietly laughed.

He turned towards the werewolf and glared in his general direction, at what he assumed was his face. Sirius couldn't be sure however as Remus' features were darkened by shadows.

'Is that supposed to scare me?' he laughed and Sirius' anger flared.

He growled under his breath, both annoyed at himself and furious with the idiot questioning him.

Sirius closed his eyes and focus his magic inwards. His skin tingled and his magic hummed as he shifted. Within moments, the darkness faded away morphing into light grey tones. He saw everything. Smelt everything. He heard a creature scuttle somewhere in the distance, a hoot of an owl rang in his ears and he licked his chops at the sudden smell of raw meat.

A wild odour reached his nose then, muting everything else. Blood and animal. A pungent musk that set him on edge. The large dog turned towards the source and Padfoot growled. He found Remus glaring right back, his head tilted and alert. Eyes glittering, unblinking as he studied the dog's every move. He looked ready to pounce.

His ears flattened against his skull. Teeth bared, he continued to growl as he bent his feet, ready to protect himself. Padded feet, light upon the mossy earth, took several slow steps backwards and away from the suddenly alert werewolf.

He shifted back when there was enough space between them. Remus' demeanour didn't change. He eyed him like you would a threat. At least he'd now know if Remus did decide to attack him. His transformation did what he'd expected it to and he could now see in the darkness, Padfoot's enhanced senses having transferred over to his human half, if only momentarily.

'Don't do that again,' warned Remus, his voice low and threatening.

'I couldn't see,' he said, his own voice steady and measured. 'I needed to transform.'

Remus didn't say anything else, but he felt the tension in the air begin to ebb. It still felt volatile though. His eyes moved upwards towards the night sky, searching.

'It's behind you. Two more days.'

He nodded, 'I know.'

Sirius turned to and began walking away, his steps no longer dangerous. The danger now lay in the footsteps following him. He didn't run but he wanted to. It was some time before Remus started his tirade again. They were minutes away from his home.

'Do you know the best part of all of this?'

He should've kept walking. He knew he shouldn't have turned back around but he did. His damn curiosity got the best of him and he turned to face his fellow Marauder. The first thing that registered was the werewolf's grin void of all humour, quickly followed by glowing, amber eyes.

Sirius raised a black eyebrow in question and Remus' smile broadened into a condescending smirk and he clenched his fists.

He would not hit the bastard.

_Remus can't help it,_ he told himself. The full moon was two days away and this wasn't him. The Marauders had realised ages ago that the closer it was to the full moon, their usually quiet and gentle friend turned into a blunt and aggressive arsehole with little to no inhibitions or fear. With the war however, he'd become something else - More. His anger intensified. His mouth ran away from him. His paranoia increased. He became almost animalistic in nature. Just _more. _Remus wasn't exactly in control though. He couldn't help what he said or did and because of that, Sirius couldn't deck him. No matter how much he wanted to.

Besides, werewolf bones were hard as fuck. He'd only end up hurting himself.

'You physically attacked a Muggleborn - Your mother would be proud.'

His fist connected with Remus' cheek with a sharp and sudden pain as the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out.

'Fuck!'

Sirius clutched at his right hand, his teeth clenched as the pain on his hand intensified and spread. His knuckles had cracked upon contact and he bit back a groan.

To his left, he heard Remus chuckling. He looked up and saw the werewolf wiping at the corner of his upturned lips, searching for blood. There wasn't any. 'How's your hand?'

He flexed his sore hand, pale eyes stinging from the pain. 'What the fuck do you want Remus?' he panted. 'I know I fucked up alright? I don't fucking need you telling me.'

'Don't you?'

Sirius shook his head. 'No I don't. You're not my bloody minder.'

'No I'm not, but it seems like you fucking need one. You're fucking losing it Sirius!'

The black haired wizard glared. Pale eyes staring down the lanky wizard.

'You'd know a bit about that eh?'

The taller wizard's lips curled. 'Yes.'

'What are you waiting for then? An apology? Is that what you want? Me to go back and beg for forgiveness?'

Sirius swallowed thickly at that. The idea of seeing her again set his nerves further on edge. He wouldn't be able to handle being in the same room as her, not now. Possibly ever. Hermione, whomever she was, was clearly toxic to his mental health. He was dangerous to her in general.

'I don't fucking care what you do Sirius as long as you're done with this mission. It's doing your head in and it's fucking pointless to be looking out for Hermione when you're one of the people hurting her.'

He'd almost flinched. He hadn't really hurt her though. If anything, she'd used her magic to choke him. He opened his mouth to say as much but Remus stopped him with a harsh tone and flashing eyes.

'Don't you fucking dare try and justify what you did.'

Sirius shut his mouth and with a shake of his head, continued to make his way towards the cabin. The two Marauders reached it in silence several minutes later. The sudden noise and flurry of activity an odd contrast to their previous isolation.

'Moody wants to speak to us.'

The taller bloke nodded as he spotted James heading up the stairs, 'I know.'

The two wizards made their way towards Moody's office and found him sat behind his desk, studying a portfolio. He didn't look up when they entered, the bloke didn't really have to.

'Lupin,' he barked. 'You're off the mission at Godric's Hollow. Go find Caradoc, get out.'

Remus blinked and if he was shocked at this turn of events, he didn't show it. Sirius however, felt his panic rising as the walls began to close in on him. It hadn't escaped his notice that he hadn't been dismissed from the mission. It didn't matter though, he was going to request a different mission anyway.

'I want a change of mission,' he blurted out the second Remus shut the door behind him, his neck prickling.

Alastor didn't look up or say anything and Sirius began to feel awkward.

'You are officially Hermione's sole guard,' said Mad-Eye. 'Starting tomorrow morning you will watch her during the day, the nights will be watched by me or one of the Prewetts.'

He gaped at the grizzled Auror. He couldn't believe this shit. The old bastard had heard him, he knew he had.

'Did you hear what I said?'

Alastor looked up and Sirius found himself pierced by a small beady eye and a vibrant electric blue one. He swallowed when the wizard began to smile. Sincere or not it was completely fucking unnerving.

'I heard you fine.' The Auror threw a package at him and Sirius felt it slam into him. 'Don't open that. It's a modified Port-key with a flesh memory charm, make sure Granger handles it. The first time she touches it will activate it, the second time she does she'll be Port-keyed away.'

The Marauder shook his head, completely confused. He didn't understand. Was he watching the bitch or not? And who the hell was Granger?

'Am I reassigned?'

Mad-Eye grunted as his focus returned to the folder.

'Hermione,' he clarified and Sirius' gut clenched. 'Dumbledore requested that you personally watch her. Same schedule. Twelve hours, eight A.M. to P.M. Usual rules apply. Get out.'

Sirius clutched at the square package in his hands as he stared at the older wizard's bent head.

Dumbledore requested him? What the fuck was he playing at?

'No. Give me another mission - I demand another mission. I'm fucking done watching over Herm- Granger.'

Her surname felt strange and foreign on his tongue. It felt wrong saying it.

'Noted,' growled the Auror. 'Get out.'

He didn't move but continued to stare at the top of the scarred wizard's head, still bent as he studied the parchment before him.

'What the fuck?!'

A pair of mismatched eyes finally met his own. He threw the package down on the table with a hollow thud.

'I said no. Give me something else.'

Alastor pierced him with a glare which did the man no favours or filled him with confidence.

'You do as you're told boy.'

Sirius bit down on his back teeth, infuriated.

'No. I'm not watching her anymore. I don't know what the hell is going on and what you're all hiding but I'm not stupid. I need to agree to it and I don't fucking agree. I want a different mission.'

'You don't get to choose.'

'-You can't force me.'

'I just have,' barked the older wizard throwing the package back at him. 'You have been given a direct order by Dumbledore himself and you will fucking take it or you're out!'

Sirius blinked at the threat, his anger pushed aside by momentary confusion and rapidly growing humour. A slow smile pulled at his lips. He almost laughed.

'The fucking Order needs every wand it can get. Fifty odd high ranking members, dozens of cells across the country, members in government and it's still not enough. I'm not going anywhere.' He slammed the package down on the table. 'You fucking need me.'

'We need soldiers-,'

'-Not fucking boys, yeah give me another sodding line that one's getting old! I'm not watching her anymore.'

He felt the crack of magic reverberate against his chest. He saw the jab of a wand as the room glowed blue. He just registered the blur the older man had become when he felt the wall slam against the back of his head. The heavily scarred man's face inches away from his own, the Auror's hot breath filling his nostrils.

'Do you think this is a fucking game Black?' spat the older wizard, shaking him. 'That you can throw a fucking temper tantrum and get your way? You don't get to decide or make demands boy! This is fucking war and there's no room for entitled selfish little pricks. You're taking that fucking mission and you'll be grateful or you're gone!'

He slammed him once more against the wall and Sirius blinked away the dots of light that had sprung up. He rubbed at his head, his sore neck screamed in protest every time he swallowed.

Moody had just attacked him. He'd been chosen by Dumbledore to watch over Granger. Moody wasn't taking no for answer and was threatening to kick him out if he didn't fall in line. All over some bird.

_Who the hell is this bitch?_

Perhaps Remus was right. There had to be a reason why Hermione _Granger_ was so bloody important. He felt spectacularly out of his depth. Something big was going on and he was now at the heart of it. If he played his cards right, he might find out what.

Sirius licked his dry lips and swept back his fringe. He matched Moody's glare and stretched out a hand. The package flew into his waiting palm. 'Alright.'

Moody's eye twitched and his head tilted as he ran his blue eye over him. Unfortunately for the bloke, it couldn't see thoughts. Sirius knew the old bastard had caught his train of thought though.

'Mind your business Black,' growled Mad-Eye.

He was half way up the stairs and he could still feel Alastor watching him. The dog animagus passed James' door and willed it to open. He wasn't inside though as no yelling or cursing came. He reached Wormtail's door and knocked, no answer which meant he'd already gone. Remus' door was closed but he knew better than to disturb the bloke with Dorcas moaning like that. If he disturbed them he'd find himself hurt. By the sounds of it, she'd be angrier than him.

_Go Moony._

His feet dragged up his flight of stairs and he threw himself into bed. It'd been a long day.

He awoke several hours later after a night of heavy sleep, completely unrested. The previous day's event fresh in his mind and weighing him down as he'd prepared for the day. Remus hadn't been much help.

He'd met the werewolf down at the kitchen, preparing himself a cup of tea. The sight of the bloke's scarred chest a reminder of what was to come. Naturally, Moony had been less than cheerful and didn't hold his tongue.

Sirius had called for some coffee in what must've been a harsh tone because Tinky flinched the second she was called. Remus had spotted her reaction.

'You even manage to terrorize house-elves.'

Sirius had snapped before he realised he'd done it. 'I don't abuse house-elves!'

The werewolf didn't bat an eyelash. 'Nope. Just scared women.'

He'd hit a raw nerve and his words followed him through his journey back to Godric's Hollow and they rooted him to his current spot, across the small street, before Batty's red door. The parcel in his jacket heavy with responsibility.

He had to speak to her.

Sirius shuffled from foot to foot, a cigarette clasped firmly between cold lips as he postponed the inevitable. He had to see her, convince her to listen, he had to hand over the parcel and guarantee that she grabbed hold of whatever the hell she'd been given and the only way any of that could happen was with direct contact. He doubted the whole interchange would be less than smooth. Naturally, the witch wouldn't be inclined to trust him or to be civil. Not after yesterday.

_You attacked a Muggleborn. Your mother would be proud!_

_You'll always be a Black, cousin._

'Fuck this,' he mumbled, flicking away his cigarette.

It was eight past nine in the morning. Olde Rosa's opened exactly at ten. Which meant he had to grab a hold of whatever bollocks he had and suck it up cos Granger needed her Port-key. And he had to give it to her.

_Fuck._

He really didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be here period. He didn't want to see her face.

_Was she hurt?_

Fuck he hoped not. He'd never hit a woman, but he sure as hell couldn't claim that he'd never been rough with one. Not anymore. He'd seriously fucked up.

He had to man up and own it.

Sirius took the few steps needed and knocked on the door before he lost his nerve. By the last knock he was hoping no one would answer. He wasn't lucky.

A wand tip greeted him and he bit back a groan, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. A separate part of his brain argued that he deserved this.

'What were the first words I spoke to you?'

Sirius fought the urge to bat away the witch's wand. A groan did escape him then, he glared at the smiling witch. 'You know bloody well what they were.'

Batty nodded. 'I most certainly do, but a Death Eater wouldn't would he?'

He clenched his jaw as she smiled, his lips barely moving. 'Want a hand?'

'I'll forever cherish the memory of walking in on you as you were wanking.' The witch sighed, lowering her wand with a flirty wink. 'Anything I can help you with Sirius?'

He cleared his throat, cheeks burning. 'I need to talk with Granger.'

'Ohhh... Granger now is it? What happened to bitch?'

Sirius turned his head away from the tiny witch, eyes scanning the empty street. 'I have a package for her.'

'Alright, I'll make sure she gets it.'

The Marauder shook his head at the woman's outstretched hand. 'I have direct orders to make sure she opens it and handles the Port-key inside. I have to be the one who gives it to her.'

Batty's smile spread and she stepped aside, granting him entry. 'Yeah, I'm sure you do.'

He ignored the old woman and her damn comments as he walked into the sitting room proper, his heart beating fast. The relief he felt when he found that she wasn't there was ridiculous.

A tinkling laugh rang behind him and he turned to glare to at the small witch. Unfortunately, it was then that he took her in and found that Batty was wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe that was far too thin and far too short.

He shuddered at the image, quickly darting his eyes to one of her many bookshelves. Books were nice. They were safe. Not half-naked and flirty.

'Don't worry Sirius, I'll behave,' she laughed. 'It's far too early for smart arse comments. Hermione's upstairs, I'll call her. Sit down love. Relax. You'll live longer.'

He didn't relax. He paced the room. Fiddled with the parcel in his jacket pocket. Jingled his lighter, anxiously waiting for the young witch. Footsteps echoed across the walls and he clenched his fists as heat raced down his back.

'She's in the shower.'

Sirius released a breath he'd not known he'd been holding and his shoulders dropped. Batty laughed. Again.

'Fucking hell you're tense.'

'How lon-,' his voice died in his throat.

She'd gotten dressed. The thin robe was gone, replaced now by a French maid's uniform.

'What the fuck?!'

Batty flounced into the room, her skirt bouncing with her every step. The dress tight on her otherwise round frame.

'Sorry?' she innocently asked, eyes wide, red lips puckered.

'I thought you said it was too early for bullshit?'

'It is! That's why I called her and got dressed. Didn't want to be indecent and sit with you while only wearing a robe.'

He shook his head at the image from before. At least her current outfit wasn't short. Or thin. He supposed this was better.

'Sit. I'll get us some tea.'

He wasn't in the mood for tea but anything was better than talking to Batty as she wore that. Sirius sat but quickly stood. He paced and sat again, only to stand half a second later. A creak of a door's hinge almost made him jump.

'Here we are!'

He turned to face the older woman and furrowed his brow at the tiny elf with a fluffy, purple bathrobe and a face mask at her knees, glaring daggers at him.

'Don't mind Hooky,' said Batty carrying a tea tray. 'He's a bit of a bitch towards people who manhandle Hermione.'

A low growl rang out and he took a step back. The House-Elf continued to glare and he quickly turned to the approaching witch. Sirius did a double take, frowning.

Was her dress shorter? Sirius shook his head. He needed to get out of here.

'Is she almost done?'

'I don't know, I'll go see. Sit. Drink. Hooky will keep you company. Fair warning though, he reacts violently to sudden movements and aims straight for the bollocks.'

'What?!'

She was kidding right?

Sirius turned towards the small elf, his movements slow - just in case. He cleared his throat, suddenly very much self-aware.

'Alright?'

Hooky didn't reply and he slowly sat down, his hands casually draped over his lap. Had Batty been fucking with him? He hoped she was cos he really liked his bollocks. They'd been good to him.

The elf sat across from him in a high winged back chair, still glaring. He wasn't intimidated by any means but he was definitely uncomfortable. The creak of stairs rang out again and pale eyes moved to the source of the sound. The black haired Marauder now hoped it was Granger, then he'd be able to leave this damn house.

It wasn't though. Once again it was Bat - _Was that a nipple?!_

He shot out of his seat, backing away from the powerful witch. Her dress was suddenly two sizes smaller, was up to mid-thigh and far too low in the chest. He wasn't going to check again but fucking hell, he was sure he'd seen a nipple.

He stared at the books again.

'Do you have to fucking wear that?' he spat.

'No, of course not,' replied a soft, feminine voice. 'I'll take it off if you'd like?'

He heard the rustle of fabric and turned wide, frightened eyes to the witch. Knowing too damn well what she meant by her comment.

_'NO!'_ he shouted at the witch, hands outstretched to stop her undressing.

His eyes slammed shut the second he laid eyes on her.

It'd definitely been a nipple.

'Batty? Is someone here?'

_Shit._

He opened his eyes just in time to see shock morph into rage.

'What the hell are you doing here?!'

Sirius flinched at her shrewd tone, the sound of it painful to his sensitive ears. Batty answered for him.

'Sirius is here cos he wants you to handle his package.'

A set of brown and grey eyes shot towards the tiny witch, who in turn smiled and waved. He cleared his throat, he wanted this over and done with. He met a pair of brown, angry eyes.

'Dumbledore sent me.' He reached into his jacket and pulled out the small parcel. 'This is for you.'

Sirius didn't know what to do with himself. Handing her the parcel seemed too personal and intimidate an exchange with all things considered and he doubted either one of them wanted the familiarity. He couldn't ask the elf to give it to her either. Batty was clearly enjoying the awkwardness far too much to assist. In the end he set it down on the coffee table between them.

'Why are you here?' she demanded yet again. 'I told Dumbledore to remove you!'

Black eyebrows shot upwards and he looked at her straight on. Why had Remus been taken off then? His surprise overriding his discomfort.

She _told him?_

'I don't know what to tell you,' he said. 'My partners gone, he was definitely removed. From this point on though, I'm your permanent guard. Dumbledore requested me specifically.'

'He _what?'_

Sirius explained all he knew, making sure to emphasise the fact that he'd played no part in the decision making process. He was as much a victim of circumstance as she was after all.

The younger witch fumed and raved. Claiming she was going to pay a visit to Dumbledore _right. Now!_

Sirius didn't say anything, he just listened and watched the retreating witches as they walked into the kitchen for a moment of privacy. They may as well not have, he heard them as clearly as if he was stood next to them.

Unfortunately, nothing they said made sense. Batty mentioned something about her magic and red fire and how anger fuelled her control. He didn't know what the hell they were talking about. The only reason Granger stopped her tirade was because Batty reminded her of the time. Twenty minutes to ten. She had to go soon. The curly haired witch stormed into the room not a minute later. Eyes bright, chest heaving and flushed. She looked like she'd been crying.

'You don't bloody talk to me, you understand?! You keep your damn mouth shut and do not touch me!'

'Yeah.' The wizard nodded, dropping his eyes. 'Yeah. I won't ... ' _Touch you? Hurt you? Shout abuse at you?_

He didn't know what to say. They all applied.

_Your mother would be proud!_

The silence was thick between them.

She reached for the package at the table and his curiosity peaked, wondering what it was that he'd been carrying around.

'I just touch it, is that it?' spat Granger.

He nodded, 'Yeah. Touch it once to imprint on it or something and that'll activate it. The second time you touch it, I assume it'll whisk you away. That's what Mad-Eye said anyway.'

She hesitated. It wasn't for long but she did. When she caught him staring, the brunette blushed. Rather than reach inside it, she opened the parcel and turned it over. Inside she found an envelope. She turned it upside down too so that a black, glossy cylinder the size of his pinkie fell out.

The witch stared into her open palm and Sirius craned his neck, trying to see what it was. It - it looked like lipstick?

Granger didn't say anything, but continued to stare at her opened palm. Finally she turned to him, eyebrow raised in what could either be a question or exasperation. Maybe both.

'Was that it?'

Sirius shook his head and shrugged his shoulders to which she sniffed.

'Not exactly a fountain of information are you?'

He bit his lip at that. Remembering the promise he'd made to himself: He'd behave and watch himself around the witch. Holding his tongue was harder than anticipated.

'Open it?'

The witch bit her lip and popped off the top. Horror spread over her features and Sirius snorted at the colour, a bright neon yellow-green that was offensive to all senses and had no right to exist in lipstick form.

'Charming colour,' he said before he was able to stop himself. 'Definitely suits you.'

Granger snorted and the sound brought the awkwardness back full force. The witch returned her gaze to the lipstick and licked her lips with sudden understanding. Sirius raised an eyebrow as it too dawned on him. If the Port-key had yet to activate, it was because the container itself was nothing more than another form of protection. The Port-key was the lipstick itself. The colour was brilliant as well because no woman he'd ever come across would dare to use that horrendous shade. So, if for whatever reason, Hermione lost sight of it he doubted any sane bird would choose to pick it up and wear it. Yet again, another form of protection and camouflage. It really was quite clever.

The witch pressed it against her lower lip and the lipstick glowed bright blue almost instantly. Hermione flinched. Wild eyes searched the room before she shut them and whispered under her breath.

'You're okay,' she told herself. 'You're still here.'

She caught him staring and her eyes burned with embarrassed defiance. He didn't look away, though he probably should have. The truth however was that it felt like too much of a challenge. Like he'd lose something by looking away.

'Fucking hell!' exclaimed Batty as she entered the room seconds later, 'I could cut the tension with a knife! You two need to either duel or fuck.'

Two pairs of eyes turned to glare at the older witch, now dressed in her usual style of flowery dresses. She smiled.

'Have we made up then? Cos either way Hermione, you'll start running late if you don't hurry.'

Granger turned guarded eyes on him. 'Don't-,'

He didn't let her finish. He already knew what she wanted from him. 'I'll behave.'

She didn't believe him, he could tell but he wasn't bothered. Sirius couldn't really blame her. Nothing else was said as Granger reached for her bag and threw it over her shoulder. He pulled out the invisibility cloak and followed in her wake.

_Behave._

It was a really childish word to use. Completely out of place with the seriousness of the situation. _It was the truth though,_ thought Sirius as he stepped out into the cool, summer morning. He'd fucked up and he was determined to not repeat it. He'd be on his best behaviour when it came to her. Even if it killed him.

Because at the end of the day Remus had been right. Had his mother seen him the previous day, she _would_ have been proud.


	10. Sky

Thanks to _TheUnrealInsomniac_ for his beta work and encouragement. He's a fantastic writer who's work I can't get enough of. If you enjoy Harry/Daphne fics or James!Alive fics go give his a try. You can find him on my faves lists.

* * *

**Silver**

Sky

* * *

Hermione Granger was a creature of habit.

Her days were spent carefully measured into routines and patterns that ruled her life. He wouldn't judge anyone for that but Sirius didn't get how a person with such a mysterious past could be so fucking dull.

Everyday she followed the same schedule - the same damn things and he was fit to burst with boredom.

'One ... two ... three ...' counted Sirius under his breath as Granger dropped three bat fangs into a mortar.

Next she'd pound it into a fine dust and add in essence of snail ... and now she'll add it to her Anti-sweating potion, stir sixteen times counterclockwise ... twelve times clockwise ... then she'd wait for the-

An orange cloud erupted from the cauldron and Granger's smile emerged from within the dissipating mist. An airy hand waving away the smoke before adding five drops of Black Widow's venom and stirring the potion clockwise again. Her resulting smile told him all he needed to know.

_Another successfully brewed potion. Well done._

Sirius yawned as the witch flitted across the cellar to gather twenty empty potion vials.

It would take her two trips. She'd fill them to capacity, bottle them up and then proceed to write a label. Which he would then assist with a well placed Gemino charm and she'd have her twenty labels and would then paste them on the vials. After that's done, she'd move to the next potion on the list. As it was a Friday, she would be brewing a Hair Removal Cream, Pepper-Up and a Bad Breath Banishing Brew.

Once done, she would scrub and clean the tools with enough time left to take over the shop for the last two hours of the day after Tony left. At six, they would close down the shop- she with Muggle means and he with powerful Black wards that would piss off his parents. Afterwards, they would walk down to The Lamb and Flag where he would buy himself a quick meal, usually a sandwich. Back to Batty's where she would stay and he would conjure himself a seat and eat his meal. Notice-Me-Not Charm or invisibility spell optional until blissful relief ended his mind numbing torment at eight.

Sitting and watching. This was his life now.

He'd been bored by the end of their first day. Three, almost four weeks in and he was at his wit's end. Ready to scream, if only to break the monotony.

He was so fucking _bored_.

Sirius had never thought he'd miss a fight or long for a duel yet here he was, sat in corner, watching Granger brew her potions, wishing for some excitement. A moth had flown in two days ago and had repeatedly flown into the window in an attempt to escape. That'd been interesting. He'd named him Pietra. Had given it an interesting back story and everything, but then they'd arrived this morning to find her dead.

Sirius yawned again, scratching at himself as Granger began to fill her vials.

He was a hypocrite and he knew it. He'd wished for a bit of normalcy before but now he actively hoped for a bit of excitement.

No missions passed on to him anymore. He didn't go on scouting missions, he hadn't been called to work as a distraction in ages and he'd missed more Order meetings than he'd attended - short of an emergency, his sole job was to watch over Hermione Granger.

Guarding her had become his only contribution to the cause and he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't much. Odd circumstances aside, he doubted that watching her dice leeches was aiding the fight against Voldemort. Granted, he hadn't been needed much - the Dark Lord had been quiet but it wasn't going to last much longer. The air was charged with tension. It was only a matter of time before the attacks began again.

The Marauder rubbed his eyes, mental exhaustion making him sluggish.

He'd been stuck in his head far too much that first week. By the second week, he'd begun to focus all that attention to his surroundings, which weren't many. Before he knew it, he'd begun to study Granger.

Boredom, after all, lead into idle watching. Being forced into such a small space with one other person, where talking was beyond your ability, there was nothing else to do but watch and study whatever caught your eye. And all he had was her.

Sirius started as the radio broke out into the next song.

Normally background noise, every so often a song he enjoyed would come on. Him singing along to it or Granger muttering to herself were the only noises either of them made when forced into each others' company. He didn't speak to her unless absolutely necessary and she didn't acknowledge him ever.

This was their routine and it worked for them.

Sirius tapped his foot against the cement floor to the song as the woman began to belt out her proclamation of survival and empowerment. Catchy as fuck all and regrettably Disco- it was still a good song. He rather liked it. Muggles really knew how to do music right. The Beatles alone were proof of that.

He turned the radio up a bit and sat back, head unconsciously nodding.

_'-you think I'll lay down and die, Oh no not I! ...'_ he sang along unthinkingly.

The last lyrics sung, he moved to lower the volume and caught a glimpse of the witch and her rosy cheeks. Eyes bright and shaking with suppressed laughter, Sirius glared at her.

_Bitch._

It was a good song, fuck her if she couldn't see it and he'd sing if he wanted. It wasn't his fault she didn't feel the need to validate herself along with the song. He on the other hand _did_ feel like singing about having all his love to give.

And he really did have a lot of love to give. Sirius couldn't remember the last time he'd shagged somebody. It'd been Marley- he knew that much but couldn't think when. All he knew was his boys were blue.

He ran a hand down his face, fighting off the need to sleep. On the opposite side of the room, Granger continued to fight her laughter as she bottled up the last of the potion.

Setting it aside, she reached for a Muggle pen and a label with Olde Rosa's stamped over it. With a yawn and a stretch, Sirius stood on lazy legs and walked over to her table. He pulled out his wand, tapped the label and with a nonverbal command, labels erupted from the single one like a shuffling deck of cards.

Sweeping back his hair, he made his way back towards his stool and sat just as the radio began asking him if he'd ever seen the rain.

_Of course I bloody have,_ thought Sirius as he rubbed his eyes. _It's England._

'Damn weather,' he muttered.

Arm over his chest and legs crossed at the heel, he leant against the wall as Granger finished labelling. Eyes heavy, brain muddled from inactivity and lulled by the heat his eyes fell shut. He dozed.

Caught between the realm of sleep and awareness, time became meaningless. He felt the music, smelt the bubbling cauldrons and heard Granger muttering to herself but none of it mattered.

Hours or perhaps several minutes later, the sound of a bottle breaking brought him back to the present and his eyes snapped open. Dazed, Sirius turned just in time to see Granger attempting a Vanishing spell and for the hundredth time, the Marauder wondered where her own wand was and what had happened to her magic. He'd learnt his lesson though. Asking - _talking_ \- to her was out of the question and so he kept his silence. His curiosity once again wildly out of control.

He saw her shoulders drop the second resignation set in. Once again he pulled out his wand.

Helping her was equal parts guilt, boredom and pity. It was a habit they had gotten themselves into. Borne out of necessity and for the sake of peace rather than kindness. Though his help was now comfortably accepted, it hadn't always been welcomed.

It began with an accident. A spill which melted a vial, whose contents mixed with the original potion. A cloud of toxic, green smoke and he saved the day with a flick of his wand.

Granger has a tendency to spread out her tools beside her. In perfect little rows and always in order of necessity. She had a clear preference for her silver cutting knife, she refused to begin a new potion until she cleaned off all her work area to avoid unnecessary clutter and judging by her sour expressions, the witch loathed making a mistake. Which didn't happen often.

The brunette clearly took pleasure in work. Her face lit up as she prepared to brew, to say nothing of her smile after she'd finished a potion.

People like that - like _her_ \- thrived on success and order. Asking for help was out of the question.

So she hadn't said thanks when he saved her arse. She'd just glared.

Granger was a petite thing and some of the shelves were high. After watching her struggle for nearly half an hour, he summoned the damn thing for her. Her pride had been hurt and he'd smiled. Admittedly, he'd enjoyed watching her suffer at first but by the end of the second week, his smug attitude had turned to shame and she'd learnt to accept his help.

It was little Michael Jones and his bad blood that opened Sirius' eyes to Granger.

Everyone in Godric's Hollow knew about little Michael and every magical person in the village knew that he was given a Blood Replenishing Potion by Tony Cox who saw his magic as a gift from his God.

At the age of six, Michael hated the taste of the potion no matter how much better it made him feel. When he'd entered the cellar a week ago now, followed by his tired Mum, the little boy had begun to cry. He didn't like the yucky medicine he'd cried and no one could soothe him long enough to guarantee that he would drink it all in one go like a good little boy. With a soothing smile and a gentle voice Granger had gotten him to drink it for her.

He didn't know how it usually went but by the pleased look on Tony's face and the grateful and relieved one from Michael's mum, he had to guess that it'd never gone as smoothly as he'd witnessed.

Sirius' guilt at his previous actions grew a bit more. The shame definitely intensified and Remus' voice grew louder. That's when he began to really pay attention.

What he'd previously thought a bad perm job was just her hair. He learned that she enjoyed reading. She was also clever and kind.

She was scared of her own shadow, always jumping at the slightest noise from above.

Because he had nothing better to do than watch her, Sirius gained first-hand knowledge about her magic - most of which was accidental. The witch had limited control and though she wasn't powerful, flashes of her abilities shined through.

The witch had actually managed to vanish and _Accio_ items with ease when not focused. It was when she tried that her magic failed her. And she often tried. He wasn't sure but having seen it first-hand during battle, where even a seasoned Auror's magic failed - he suspected it was due to an extreme emotional upheaval. Her face would turn sour or she'd scowl and her shoulders would drop, that was usually the time he acted. Sirius had gotten quite familiar with her expressions - which had currently turned to surprise as the sound of running footsteps rang above them, quickly followed by a cheer from Tony.

Clearly excited, Sirius didn't see the need to pull out his wand but he did it anyway. The firm pressure comforting. He turned to Granger only to catch her holding onto the Potioneer's Wand firmly.

Within minutes the cellar door flew open and he'd just managed to cover himself with the cloak when Tony barged into the room, Rosa on his heels. The smiling man turned to Hermione and laughed as he put an arm around a teary Rosa.

'Our daughter was just born!'

A pause and then Granger dropped her wand on the table as he felt his own smile forming.

'Congra- Oh my God! Tony, Rosa! _Congratulations!'_

The brunette reached out to the petite Muggle woman, embracing her as the older woman's tears continued to fall.

'Mí bebé Herminny. _Mí bebé!'_

'I know Rosa,' said Granger, now reaching for Tony. 'When did it happen? I thought it was too soon?!'

The tall bloke nodded, 'Bit early yeah, but she's fine and all's well. We're going to go and catch a train to Liverpool. She'll need to stay in hospital for a bit, procedure or something to check her lungs and all other things- we don't know!' laughed Tony. 'We'll be gone a week? I'm not quite sure. Hermione can you man the shop? If not, we'll give you the week off-,'

'-Con pago!'

Tony nodded. 'With pay of course.'

The witch agreed immediately, as Sirius knew she would and with a few more pleasantries and questions the ecstatic couple left the cellar. Granger stopped her dicing, turned off the flame and began to clean her work table. He checked the time. Ten minutes after four. They had to move upstairs now.

Sirius' mind wandered towards the happy couple. It was a well known fact that the Cox's had wanted a kid for years. They'd never managed it though. He'd once overheard Mrs. Potter and Batty gossip and the gist of it was that all their pregnancies resulted in miscarriages. Mrs. Potter had been sympathetic and Batty in her usual way had questioned their need for a child at all. She'd never wanted them.

Sirius was happy for them, they were obviously overjoyed. The bloke may get on his nerves and Rosa frustrated him on account of her English - honestly the fucking woman had been in country for years, something should've stuck by now - but all that aside... they were good people, they'd make great parents.

But ... _why?_ he wondered as Granger continued to clean and the music played.

The world was shit. War was a constant and very real threat. Tony was a Muggleborn married to a Muggle. Death was a possibility. Why would anyone consider bringing a child into their lives with those odds?

Then again, he'd never wanted kids to begin with so it probably went over his head. Either way, whether he agreed with it or not, his lips still formed a rueful smile as he wished the couple a safe trip and for the sprog's lungs to be okay.

Sirius was about to pull off the cloak when a creak of stairs rang out and the door opened once again.

'Bleeding Christ Hermione, I forgot ... tonight's the Mottlewart harvest. I usually do it but obviously I can't now - could you perhaps do it? I'll understand if you can't as it's last minute and all, feel free to say no. We can miss these six months, it's alright.'

Sirius turned towards the brunette mentally willing her to say no. To have her come up with some bloody excuse and shut him down.

'Sure.'

_Fuck._

'Brilliant! Thank you! The mushrooms are just over the ridge by the small spring. They glow in the dark so they'll be easy to spot. Thank you love, truly!'

A creak of stairs, a rumbling of running footsteps and a roar of an engine and the couple was gone. Sirius glared at the sodding witch as he threw off the cloak. She had no fucking idea as to what she'd just agreed to do.

He licked his lips, clenched his fists and fought the urge to swear at her.

'Do you know what you've just done?'

Granger stopped her cleaning and slowly lifted her head. Brown, hate-filled eyes glared him down and Sirius fought the urge to reach for his wand.

_'Don't._ Talk to me.'

He stood and pointed at the door. 'Do you have _any_ idea what you just agreed to?'

'I said stop talking to-,'

_'-No._ Fuck off! Do you know where the hell you'll need to go?!'

The brunette stopped whatever was going to come out of her stupid mouth and a fleeting look of insecurity crossed her face before it was replaced with a cool mask of indifference and annoyance. He clenched his jaw.

'You don't do you?'

Granger sniffed, her bloody nose up in the air. 'Of course I do. I agreed to pick some toadstools for Tony.'

'Yeah. In the mountains. Which are over three hours away. That spring he talked about? It's in a dense wood which has a Death Eater camp hidden - _far away from Dumbledore's wards!'_

Silence, thick and heavy, as the glimmer of defiance faded from her eyes. She swallowed and her mouth opened and closed several times.

'I... I'm-,'

Sirius continued to watch the witch, secretly enjoying her reaction. Granger shut her eyes as the radio began to malfunction. He quickly shut it off. It was his only friend in this damn room and he didn't want it getting hurt because of her.

'I said I'd do it.'

His head shot up and his mouth fell open. That'd been the last thing he'd expected to hear. Granger's eyes opened, the stubborn gleam was back.

'Like hell!'

'You have no say in it. I'm going.'

He took a step towards her. 'Look Granger, I don't know who the hell you think you are but there's no way in hell you're going.'

'You can't stop me.'

Sirius smirked as he pulled out his wand. 'Believe me _sweetheart,_ I can.'

She stiffened then. Whether from his tone or wand he wasn't sure, but it didn't do a damn thing to temper her.

'I'm going. With or without you, I will go because I said I would!'

Sirius gaped at her. At the angry gleam in her eyes and at the stubborn set of her jaw. Her posture - _everything_ about ber screamed defiance. Damn bitch looked ready to argue to hell and back.

He blinked, running a hand through his hair. He believed her. She'd go one way or another. The fact that he was forbidding it was incentive enough to make her go.

He could begrudgingly respect that. She'd promised to help out a friend and was determined to follow through regardless of her own personal risk. He understood the impulse all too well.

He shook his head, pushing back his fringe in agitation. 'Do you have your Port-key with you?'

She gave him a single nod. He wanted to throttle something.

_Where was James when you needed him?_

The last two hours crept along at first but all too quickly it was time to go.

Ambushes and accidental encounters with Death Eaters filled his mind. Granger hadn't sat still since they'd moved upstairs, she'd cleaned the counter several times and organised the smaller displays a total of eleven times - he'd counted. Then the clock struck six and his gut ached.

They closed up shop and stood in awkward silence. Both unsure what to say, minds occupied with horrible images and possibilities.

He cleared his throat. They needed to get this over with. The sooner the better. He idly wondered if informing Dumbledore or Mad-Eye was in order.

He pointed towards his right.'The Apparation point is that way, beside the broken fountain. If we leave now we can be back in hour.'

Granger turned to him, scowling. 'I'm not going with you! I'm going to ask Batty!'

Sirius very nearly laughed. 'She won't agree to go. Look, let's just go alright?'

'No.'

He couldn't believe this shit.

'You need to pick those toadstools tonight. I know where the hell they are and can Apparate us ... and you're fucking arguing!?'

'I'm not going anywhere with you and that's final.'

He nodded. 'Alright. Yeah. Let's walk to Batty's, collect her and walk all the way back to the fucking edge of town. Cos that doesn't sound unnecessarily pointless.'

'Glad you agree,' she spat before stomping her way down the road.

'She won't want to go.'

Granger sniffed. 'Shows how little you know her. And stop talking to me!'

Ten minutes later a harassed looking Granger walked out of Batty's, surprisingly alone. The brunette lifted her chin and didn't look at him as she spoke.

'She doesn't want to come.'

Sirius threw down his cigarette, glaring. 'Fucking shocker, that.'

Granger didn't reply, her hair ruffling around her as she turned to walk down the path. Sirius ran a frustrated hand through his fringe as he fought the urge to scream.

'Where the hell are you going now?'

She didn't turn around. 'To the Apparation point!'

'Wrong way,' he hissed, hitching his thumb in the opposite direction. 'It's over there.'

Granger stumbled and his lip curled when she huffed and turned. He snickered at her clear annoyance.

'Bit wrong weren't you?'

Hermione didn't reply as she stuck her nose in the air and walked past him. He bowed, arm extended as she did.

'Your Highness,' he spat.

She stopped to glare at him but the witch held her tongue. She did roll her eyes though.

The walk to the broken fountain was strained as they both attempted to be the lead. The result of which had them both walking fast and funny.

'I'm not Apparating,' she announced when they finally reached the Apparation point and his mouth fell open.

_'Sorry?'_

'I said I'm not Apparating.'

'-Yes, I bloody heard that. _Why?'_

Hermione didn't answer him but met his stare with a defiant glint in her eyes. Sirius ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his fringe. He cleared his throat, desperately trying to stomp down his temper and tame the bite in his tone.

'The clearing Tony mentioned is hours away.' he gestured to the mountains on their far right. 'Well over that ridge, we can't walk and there's no other way to get there. We _need_ to Apparate.'

Hermione shook her head. 'No.'

His jaw clenched. 'Then how do you expect us to get there?'

'Hooky.'

It took him a second to remember what a Hooky was.

'The elf?'

The brunette nodded, loose curls swaying in the breeze. Sirius shook his head. He couldn't believe her idiotic plan.

'No,' he said.

Her response was immediate and she took a step towards him. The angry glint in her eyes flaring.

'Why not?'

'Cos he's a fucking House-Elf and we're going to get your damn, sodding mushrooms!'

She shook her head, clearly not understanding and he sighed. _Of course she doesn't know,_ he thought. She's a Muggleborn. A new wave of annoyance shot through him. The last fucking thing he'd wanted was to give the prissy pain in his arse a lesson on House-Elves.

'Mottlewart,' he explained with forced calm. 'Isn't just for potions. For House-Elves, it works as an aphrodisiac. Bring him along and he'll start humping everything within reach!'

She looked at him as if he'd suddenly gone starkers and decided to dance. She didn't believe him. Of course she didn't. Like all bloody Muggleborns if a fact wasn't found in the pages of a book she automatically questioned it's authenticity. He couldn't really blame them but Merlin's saggy sack he wanted to fucking blame _her_ for not taking his word as fact.

'That's not true.'

He felt like shouting.

When he spoke his voice was calm if not monotonous. 'Yes it is.'

'I've never read that anywhere.'

'It's not something usually mentioned in a book.'

Suspicious eyes ran the length of him. 'How do you know then?'

He _really_ wanted to shout now.

'Because those with House-Elves buy them in bulk this time of year. Older families know their use during House-Elves mating rituals. The female eats it and her pores release the scent as her body secretes the oils. Then the male licks it off. Shall I explain _where_ he fucking licks?'

'You're making this up,' she accused but he could hear the sense of doubt building.

He sniffed as his lip curled. 'Believe me Granger, I wish. I had the fucked up luck of seeing it as a kid. Give me a damn Pensieve if you really want proof.'

The curly haired witch stared at him and he held eye contact until she looker away.

_Stupid bitch._

Fuck this.

Granger opened her mouth to continue arguing but he didn't give her the chance. He grabbed her by the waist, pulled her close and spun on the spot.

She struggled in his grasp but he held her tight, flush against his body as pressure pushed in around them and finally disappeared with a faint _pop!_ as their feet landed on grass.

In the span of a breath, small fists began attacking every inch of him they could. As he fought against the onslaught, Granger began screaming out her displeasure. Her every word punctuated with a punch.

'How DARE YOU?! You bloody _BASTARD!'_

Sirius' hands instantly moved towards his face as the crazy witch continued her attack. After several backwards steps, he got enough of his bearings to grab her by the shoulders and push her off.

Hermione stumbled, nearly falling, eyes wild and steadily growing incoherent in her rage. 'Don't you _ever_ \- you had no rig -_ not without my permission!'_

The Marauder wiped at the corner of his lip, tasting blood. Small patches of skin burned across his face, certain they were scratches. His right cheek ached and he took a step back, fists clenched so tight he could feel his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. An odd buzz rang in his ears.

A small vibration rolled through him as ripples of energy reached his bones in an uncomfortable sensation. His skin prickled and itched. His teeth rattled and Sirius swallowed thickly as his chest hummed and his breathing became laboured.

Granger stopped her tirade and shut her eyes. Head shaking and panting, the petite witch began muttering something to herself before opening her eyes. The vibrations stopped.

Chest heaving, Hermione put more distance between them.

His heartbeat pounded against his chest and temple. He met her glare with equal fury. He licked the corner of his lip, the fresh taste of copper filling his mouth.

He looked away running a hand through his hair, not trusting himself to maintain his control any longer.

'Don't ever-!'

'-Yeah I fucking heard you the first time! _Stop yelling,'_ he hissed, grey eyes studying their surroundings.

It was too dark. He couldn't see bloody anything and the sun was only now beginning to set.

Granger hadn't moved but he could feel her there, an uncomfortable presence beside him, her glare burning into him. He didn't turn to look at her. Didn't trust himself. Not with blood coating his tongue and his face stinging.

They were surrounded by woods, a miniature waterfall gave the bubbling springs sense of peace and beauty. The reflective pool at it's base, dark and small surrounded by mossy boulders. Scattered around the small wading pool was the Mottlewart. Their odd luminescence lighting the ground around them.

The toadstools themselves resembled miniature rocks at a distance. An odd design which guaranteed their continued lifespan but which ultimately proved worthless because once you got close they shifted back to their true form.

Purple with white-spotted rounded tops, they released a blue and green, sparkling glow and smelt like roses.

They grew together in tiny clusters, all in varying sizes. Were it not for the fact that they glowed, you could easily mistake them for stones patterned together by some curious child.

Fae circles some called them. A portal that supposedly led worthy witches and wizards into the realm of the ancient fae and away from Muggles according to the children stories his parents had told him. Which were a probably warped from the ones normal parents told.

Sirius turned to Hermione and gestured towards the glowing clusters.

'Get to it Granger. I don't actually think there's Death Eaters about but I'd rather not find out.'

She didn't argue. The witch pulled out her trusty silver knife and a bag from her purse as she approached the nearest circle.

The sky turned dark blue and the moon shone brightly against its starry backdrop. Around him the mushrooms glowed brighter. The woods grew darker. Stood in the middle of this clearing, they were out in the open and could be surrounded by hidden sinister faces with nasty intentions.

Sirius turned around and began to walk towards the nearest bushes when Hermione called out.

'Where are you going?' screeched Granger.

He flinched and tightened the grip on his wand, eyes trained on her but focused entirely on their surroundings.

'To piss if that's alright with you?' he snapped.

The witch gave him a dirty look before brown eyes scanned the woods behind him and quickly moved back to the toadstools.

Sirius ducked behind some bushes, keeping Granger in sight. Were she to turn, he doubted she'd be able to see him. The woods were too thick at night.

Eyes trained on her, he focused his magic inwards. A surge of magic at his core, tingling limbs and a moment's heat as his body flushed hot. Colours faded to bland grey and the darkness grew light as the scents of the forest and roses reached his snout.

An all too familiar scent reached him last and he felt his fur stand on end. He growled, a deep grumble that vibrated through him.

Sickly sweet and thick, the faint smell of fear lingered in the air. Padfoot's ears perked up, listening the tell-tale snap of wood or the slow and steady sound of exhaled breaths.

He changed back. Colours returned, the darkness no longer impenetrable but the odour remained. Eyes searching, palms sweaty, hands trembling, Sirius reached for his wand.

They had to leave. Now.

He took measured steps, fighting against the instinct gifted to him by Padfoot which demanded he run. With his every step the smell grew stronger and his heart beat faster.

Sirius was feet away from Granger when the breeze shifted and the odour mixed in with sweat and ... shampoo? The odd combination disgusting and potent.

He looked the area over, wondering which way the scent was coming from. From up ahead, he suspected. It was strong too. The fear. Damn near overwhelming. He had to get Granger out of here and report it to Moody.

He cleared his throat, steps away from the witch when she jumped and swirled around, eyes wide. Her blade out and at arm's length. Like a wand. Her every move caused a whiff of the nauseating odours to hit him.

Sirius blinked.

It was her.

She was scared. Terrified even.

He slowly put his hands up in a calming gesture. 'Alright Granger?'

Frantic eyes briefly closed as she nodded, licking her lips. 'You - you surprised me.'

'Yeah ...'

She was sweating and she'd yet to lower her blade. Her breathing was laboured and her eyes held onto blind panic.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know her and though he should've, he didn't want to ask if she was alright. His job was to watch her and make sure she survived his shift. Not see to her mental well-being. That wasn't part of the job description.

He nodded at the Mottlewart. 'All done then?'

The witch shook her heard, dark eyes returning to the clusters around them. Without a word, she dropped to her knees and began cutting the mushrooms down.

He swallowed thickly and grimaced at the foul taste of her fear as it coated the back of his throat. Pale eyes lingered on her back as he raised his wand. A silent _Accio_ whispered between his lips.

A loud snap to their left caught their attention, wand and blade lifted in unison and pointed towards the sound.

He released the breath he'd been holding when he saw the shape of a fox run behind a bush, dark with shadows. He turned back to Hermione and his eyes fell on her shaking, outstretched hand. The blade flashing as it shook. A new wave of that sickly sweet smell hit him.

'It was a fox.'

Wide, doe eyes turned to him but he knew she wasn't looking at him.

'A fox?' she asked absentmindedly and Sirius nearly flinched at her childlike tone.

He nodded, staring at the confusion in her eyes. Granger blinked and returned to her task without another word.

He didn't know what made him do it nor did he question it, but Sirius moved beside the kneeling witch and began cutting mushrooms down. After his third one she spoke.

'You're cutting them wrong.'

'No I'm not,' he replied.

'You are. You're cutting too close to the base, you need to cut them in the middle.'

Sirius lifted his head and found her watching him with a critical eye.

'No,' he said with a shake of his head. 'You cut Venomous fungi in the middle, not Floral fungi - which this is. So you're wrong.'

'This isn't floral, it's Morphious and best cut in the middle so you _are_ wrong.'

He sniffed, 'I'm never wrong.'

Granger sniffed right back, 'Clearly you are.'

'Mottlewart isn't from the Morphious species Granger, it's Floral.'

'I work with them, I'm pretty sure I know them better than you.'

_Doubt it, I'm older than you._

_So what?_

_So I know better._

_No you don't. _

_Yes I do Reggie._

_Fuck you Sirius!_

'What? Like the House-Elf effects?'

Granger glared at him and he smirked. She really didn't like being wrong.

'They're Morphious and you're cutting them _wrong!'_

'Floral and nope.'

The witch opened her mouth but her words turned to shock when an odd rumble broke the night's silence. The pair stood as Roxanne landed a few feet away from them.

Granger's mouth fell open as her eyes settled over his motorbike.

He gestured to it. 'My motorbike,' said Sirius unnecessarily.

The witch moved towards it and Sirius bit back a remark as she touched it.

'It's huge,' she gasped and a spark of pride shot through him at the tone of awe in her voice.

Sirius didn't have many possessions he actually cared about but Roxanne was definitely at the top of that short list.

So proud in fact that he'd never allowed anyone to ride her. Except for the Marauders that is but they didn't count. For all his showing off and bragging he'd never actually let a girl ride her. Usually the birds he chatted up were too pissed or too occupied by the end of the night to remember riding anything but him.

And now Hermione Granger would.

He really fucking hated this.

'Is it?' he deadpanned straddling his bike. 'I hadn't noticed.'

'How could you not?'

The usual answer fell from his lips without a second thought.

'Cos I'm used to handling big things between my legs.'

It took him a second to realise what he'd said. Another for the blood to rush to his face and another for him to realise the witch had gone completely quiet.

He coughed turning away, mentally cursing himself and her. To his left, he heard Granger open her bag and heard the clinking noise of vials knocking together. She cleared her throat and the heat on his face intensified.

He wanted to leave now. He cleared his throat.

'We done here?' he asked, referring to the mushrooms.

The witch shook her head and knelt once again as he sat on his bike, eyes roaming the clearing. If no one had come running to investigate the noise Roxanne made then chances were that the stories of a Death Eater camp were vastly exaggerated.

The sound of bottles reached him and he watched as Granger pulled out a pouch from within her purse which she then filled with the floral fungi.

'I don't know how...' said Granger after she'd finished, gesturing at him and Roxanne.

He didn't turn to look at her as she straightened her back and looked at him.

'Just grab my shoulders as you get your leg over.'

His eyes grew wide and he caught her blush grow bright again as he felt his own face flood with heat.

'Put a leg over the bike - you have to straddle it. I meant, just hold on to me as you straddle it.'

He slammed his eyes shut and bit back a groan. Bashing his head against the handlebars suddenly became a brilliant idea.

_What the fuck?!_

He heard Granger move and turned just in time to see her flushed face before it disappeared behind him. Sirius struggled to not move away from her touch. It felt wrong. He'd been this close to her yes, but he'd never actually been _aware_ of her. Suddenly he was and it left him feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

Small hands moved against his torso and his stomach caved in instinctively as her smaller frame settled against his, barely touching him. Sirius mentally swore knowing it wasn't enough. He didn't turn his head as he spoke.

'Hold tighter.'

'What?' Granger sputtered behind him.

He could practically feel her shocked eyes burning a hole through his skull. He clenched his jaw before speaking again.

'You have to hold tighter or you'll jerk back when I lift off.'

'I don't understand-,'

'I'll talk slower.'

He felt her glare on the back of his head. 'What do you mean, lift off?'

The Marauder grimaced. 'We'll be flying back.'

* * *

Hermione didn't think twice before scrambling off the bike and taking several steps away from the flying deathtrap. Sirius, all awkwardness forgotten, turned to her caught between confusion and shock.

She licked her lips, brown eyes running over the sight of him sat on his motorbike, all proud and self-assured. Completely uncaring of the fact that he was sat on a dangerous object no better than a broomstick which could, with one wrong move, plunge you to your death.

'What's the problem now?'

She nearly flinched at his obvious anger but then she remembered who he was and she stopped caring.

'I don't fly,' she replied with a glare and a vague memory of him and her on a hypogriff.

Hermione clutched at her purse, eyes on the motorbike's wheels trying to remember what'd happened to Buckbeak. She'd not seen him since the Final Battle. She quickly stomped that train of thought down as her memories insisted on pushing through, niggling at the back of her head.

She felt heat race up her back and burn her cheeks as the Marauder continued to stare.

'What do you mean, you don't fly?'

She met his eyes.

'I don't like to fly,' she said with as much conviction as she could, her voice shaky- anxious.

She didn't want to be grabbed and Apparated again. It'd taken everything in her not to break down in a panic. Screaming as she searched for _that_ face. The brunette slammed her eyes shut, head shaking and chest heaving as a familiar prickling spread across her palms.

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _Stop it!_

She thought of brewing. The satisfaction she felt and the sense of pride with each perfectly brewed potion. The knowledge that the person she was wasn't entirely gone. Whatever had been taken from her, she was still a damn fine potioneer. Her mind was still her own, more weary, but still her's. She refused to allow her past and an unfortunate turn of events destroy the progress she'd made.

It didn't mean she was comfortable with getting grabbed and taken somewhere else against her will. _That,_ she thought, may never go away.

Sirius continued to stare and she knew what he was going to say.

'It's either this, Apparate or summon a House-Elf who'll immediately start to wank. Take your pick.'

She tried really hard not to let the image of Hooky fondling himself take shape and failed miserably. Though traumatic, it still beat falling to her death.

'We can take the road.'

'What road?'

What road indeed. They were surrounded by woods on all sides, not a single dent on the grass to signify life. Bent stems of grass implied steps but none led away from the clearing, Sirius' need of the loo the only exception. Then again, there really wouldn't be since witches and wizards didn't need to drive. Once again, the only exception the nutter in front of her.

Hermione frowned, she turned to him pointing at the glowing circles. 'Is this area well known?'

The Marauder shook his head. 'Only people in Godric's Hollow know. Right. Lesson over? Can we go now?'

She licked her suddenly dry lips. 'Do you have to go high?'

He shook his head, looking away as he ran a hand under his nose.

'I'll go a foot above ground but the second we reach that ridge I'll have to go higher. When we clear it, I'll go low again.'

Hermione ran suspicious eyes over him. He'd gone from angry and aggressive to a grabby brute, back to angry and now he was quiet? He was absolutely maddening.

Heart pounding, body flushing hot, she took a step towards the motorbike. Sirius turned the key and the roar of the engine caused her to jump midstep. Almost immediately, he pulled out his wand, silencing the bike.

Pale eyes scanned the woods and sky. His focus suddenly caught by something in the woods. Alert and stock still, she wondered how far he could see and if the darkness bothered him at all. When researching Animagi - so many years ago - she'd learnt that the longer a person shifted, the more likely it was that animalistic traits would transfer over to their human counterparts. These abilities weren't permanent but they lingered a good amount after the Animagi transformed.

That was most likely the case now. Sirius' eyes were certainly moving like he could see.

'I'll go low,' he said and she blinked.

Heat spread across her face when she realised she'd been staring at him. Nodding, she tried to swallow. Her mouth was unbelievably dry. She'd have a glass of water when she got home - she was stalling and she knew it.

Hermione reached for his shoulders, using them for leverage as she threw her leg over the bike. The vibration not altogether comfortable. It felt extremely weird to feel those bits moving like that. She'd heard it was lovely and she'd certainly heard many lewd jokes over it on the telly but as far as she was concerned she didn't like it.

Shifting to make herself comfortable, she wondered how this was supposed to be pleasant. Her sexual experience may have been limited to a handful of occasions with Ron but - her breath hitched and caught in her throat. Her eyes slammed shut as tears pooled behind her closed lids.

She wouldn't think of him. She _wouldn't._

The bike stopped rumbling beneath her and Sirius craned his neck. He glowed blue and green, the sparkling light dancing in his eyes.

'Look,' he said. 'Unless you want to Apparate, we'll have to fly cos I am not going to have a House-Elf near me when I reek of Mottlewart.'

She moved off the motorbike, glaring. She didn't like his tone. It was too ... quiet? Understanding? Sympathetic? _Pitying?_

Either way she didn't like it. Her eyes became slits.

_'What_ is your problem?!'

Sirius spluttered and his mouth fell open as he met her eyes. He shook his head, huffing a laugh as he ran his hand through his hair only to have his fringe settle over his eyes again.

_Pretty bastard,_ said the voice in her head.

Sirius cleared his throat as he looked away, running his hand over his nose again. She hoped it was hay-fever.

'Get on the bike. We've got to get back to Godric's Hollow.'

She ran a hand down her face. The rosy and earthly scent of Mottlewart lingered. She felt so stupid. Weak. Idiotic. Borderline justified.

There was no reason at all to be this scared of flying. She'd ridden a bloody dragon for God's sake. A broomstick with Fiendfyre chasing behind as well. There was no reason for her to be this scared. She should've been more worried about being alone in the woods with Sirius.

_You're just scared of the trip love, admit it._

_I'm not Mum, I swear._

_Of course you are. You'll be going off to that school to do magic of all things. Far away from home, where you'll have no one you know. It's alright to be scared love, but it's not okay to hide from it. If you want to get rid of your fears, you have to acknowledge them first._

She was scared.

Of being forced and made to move. Of where she might end up. Past experiences considered, her feelings weren't completely unfounded.

Her palms began to tingle but with a mental command the odd sensation quickly stopped.

'Have you ever flown before?'

She blinked and heat burned across the back of her neck. She'd been staring. Again.

The witch nodded.

'Alright well, it's not like a broomstick. This is actually a bit safer. I've put charms on it-,'

'-I don't care what it has, it's still dangerous.'

His nose flared. Grey eyes turned hard. 'Get on the damn bike.'

'No.'

'You _sodding_ chil- Get on the fucking bike Granger.'

_That's better, _she thought. This Sirius she could deal with. This she knew how to handle.

'It's still dangerous to fly no matter how many bloody charms it has, nothing is safe when it's off the ground.'

'Nothing's safe _on_ the ground either,' he spat.

She didn't have an answer to that. The Marauder ran his hands through his jet black hair again. 'I know this isn't what you're probably used to when it comes to flying but I doubt it's the worst.'

She snorted. He was definitely right on that one.

'What?'

The witch frowned at him. 'What?'

'What the hell is that little snort of yours supposed to mean? You think you're too fucking good to ride my bike? Too fucking precious for it?'

Her rose scented hands clenched into fists.

'Did I say that?'

Sirius sneered. 'No, you just fucking act like it! Nose always up in the air. Always talking like you fucking know everything. Acting all high and mighty every fucking day! Tell me Granger, does it get lonely up there on your pedestal?'

Hermione shrugged. 'Not exactly. Not when I have menservants like you to do my bidding.'

She saw his shoulder tense and a small thrill shot through her.

'The hell did you just call me?'

'You heard me.'

'I'm not your servant Granger. Get that into your fucking head.'

He wasn't her servant and they both knew it but it had clearly struck a nerve. Hermione smiled at him. He scowled before looking away.

'Its getting late and we have to go. What if I conjure you a silk cushion to place under your royal arse? Would that please your bitchiness?'

She shrugged again. She was being childish and impossible to deal with and she knew it. She didn't care. Venting all her frustrations at him felt too damn good. It _was_ growing late though.

She moved towards the motorbike again and for the fourth time that night, put her arms around his torso and held onto Sirius Black as his scent flowed over her.

He smelt like shampoo, grass and cigarettes.

The bike started and with a sudden jerk and an involuntary squeal, they took off like a bullet.

In the blink of an eye, they were surrounded by dark woods, weaving between trees. His hair whipping across her face as hers flew behind along with her screams that caught in the wind and vanished.

Seconds later the woods were gone and they entered a field, plush with wild flowers that parted beneath the motorbike's speed. Hermione shut her eyes, screaming as she pressed herself into the Marauder's back.

Pressure around her pulling her back as Sirius propelled them forwards.

Then they were moving up. Hermione's eyes snapped open and another scream faded into the void as the wind circulating them attacked her from all sides.

Higher and higher they went as Sirius shot upwards into the sky with none of the grace gifted to roller coasters. Tree tops swayed as they passed. Birds flew beside them before plunging back down to their nests and then they were passing mountain peaks as the world shined with moonlight beneath them. In the distance, a river shimmered as the valley around them swayed in the breeze. A vast ocean of breathtaking dark green.

Sirius stopped the bike and they hovered amongst the stars, looking down on the Earth. She was clamped around him, her thighs were straining from the hold she had on the bike and her throat was burning from all her screaming ... but she had to admit the beauty before them was almost worth it.

For a second, in that very moment, she understood why he loved to fly.

It was peace and beauty that made you feel weightless. A smile pulled at her lips - but then he turned his head around to smirk at her. Her gut dropped the second she saw a horrid little glint in his eyes. He nodded into the distance with a sideways nod and her eyes grew wide the second she spotted grey clouds, heavy with rain, in the distance. She only had a second to hold on tighter when Sirius flew them through the cold and wet, swirling mass.

Teeth chattering, her skin wet with freezing water, his wet hair stinging her face - she clung to him until they broke through to the other side, a wisp of a cloud trailed behind them but which quickly evaporated.

Finally they cleared the mountain ridge and she very nearly cried, grateful that they'd be closer to ground once again. She should've known he wasn't going to make it so simple.

Sirius pushed forward and they plummeted into the ground, dropping several feet in a matter of seconds. A feat that she knew couldn't have been achieved by any natural means.

She screamed yet again as her chest flattened against him, his hair obscuring the rapidly approaching ground. She reached under his arms for his shoulders, digging her nails into his chest. Hermione felt him shift and suddenly they weren't vertical anymore but parallel to the grass that stung her bare shins.

A distant glow caught her eyes and her heart leapt in her throat. The lights of Godric's Hollow a welcomed sight. Determined to destroy whatever joy she'd had, the bastard gave the bike a final burst of speed and their surroundings became a blur of lines and colours as he weaved in and out whatever obstacles he saw with practised ease.

They jerked to a stop and she didn't think as she pushed herself off with shaky limbs, only to land on the familiar cobbled stone that made up the village's streets. She felt an overwhelming appreciation for it's stationary ways as she lay on her back, panting. Her chest heaving, her body gone limp unable to support her full weight.

A bark of laughter broke the silence around them and her eyes widened at the sound. So familiar and yet so foreign, the sound of it caused her chest to ache.

Hermione ran startled eyes over the Marauder and the ache sharpened.

He looked carefree. Lost in his amusement, unaware of the world around him. So unlike the man she had known, who'd grown bitter, angry and mistrustful of the world and everyone in it. His only happiness was his godson.

The laugh was the same. The cockiness and rudeness were still the same. As was the brash behaviour. Physically she could see the man she'd met during summer before her fifth year who, regardless of his years in Azkaban, had maintained his handsome looks.

That's where the similarities ended. Unlike Dumbledore, she couldn't relate the image of this Sirius who flew through clouds to the man who drank far too much.

Hermione didn't know Sirius Black.

He was a stranger she couldn't understand. So aggressive and angry - she couldn't claim to have known the Sirius Black of her own time all too well but she didn't remember ever seeing him act like this.

Not this volatile.

Recklessness of youth aside - this wasn't the man she'd known.

A pang of sympathy struck her then. She may have not liked him much in her youth and this younger version of him was even worse, but she saw the difference and her heart went out to him. He'd lose so much.

She swallowed thickly, blinking away tears.

It would all be for the best though.

The young witch licked her lips, brown eyes trained on his face, alight with joy. She sat up with shaky hands, eyes still trained on him.

'You're an arse.'

He laughed harder, nodding. 'Yeah.'

She stood on wobbly legs, her thighs burning, heart pounding in her ears.

'You said you wouldn't go fast.'

The Marauder shook his head. 'No I didn't. I said I wouldn't go high.' He smiled, 'Did you enjoy the ride Granger?'

'You made me wet,' she spat taking off her purse to check the Mottlewart. It was thankfully dry.

'Yeah, I have that effect.'

'You went too fast.'

He shrugged. 'I wanted you off of me as soon as possible.'

'I was _not_ on you!'

He nodded, getting off his bike. 'I could feel your tits against my back.'

A violent blush spread across her cheeks and down her chest, her face red hot. 'They were not!'

'They were,' replied Sirius as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his cigarettes. 'Your nipples were stabbing me.'

Her mouth fell open but she snapped it shut the second he began to chuckle.

'Don't worry about it Granger, not everyone can handle a bit of danger. Some people are meant for the quiet life.' He nodded behind her. 'Run along now, Batty will fix you up.'

Hermione blinked and only then did she notice Sirius had dropped them off at her door. She shifted from one foot to another, desperate to get inside and dry off but reluctant to allow him the last word.

She sniffed. 'Your precious bike isn't as terrifying as you think Sirius.'

He exhaled and pinned her with a look. 'Take that back.'

'No, it's true. I don't care about whatever complex you have over it but your bike's not everything you think it is.'

'So you weren't screaming at the top of your lungs?'

'You think you know everything don't you?'

'And you don't?'

She glared at him. Not because of his snarky tone but because he was technically right. She did know too much simply because Dumbledore had refused to have her Obliviated and though she was grateful for the fact, Hermione had begun to wonder why. Unfortunately for her the only person who knew the answer to that was Dumbledore himself and she knew he wouldn't tell.

Cigarette smoke reached her and she batted it away. _'Can you put that out?'_

Sirius inhaled, curious eyes running over her. 'Go on then Granger, if she's not the scariest flight you've had then what was?'

She almost didn't answer but his condescending smirk got to her. He was far too smug.

'A dragon.'

A loud snort was ripped from his throat before he began to laugh and she fought the urge to stomp away and slam the door. Instead she stood her ground and glared. _Hard._

'A dragon?' he asked after he'd settled down, an odd chuckle escaping him every so often. 'Alright,' he said, a wide smile on his face. 'Why would you ride a flying dragon.'

Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheek as her annoyance grew. Her reply blurted out of her mouth.

_'To rob a bank!'_

Sirius laughed harder, cigarette forgotten as he clutched at his belly. She felt her lips curl at the sound. Her adrenaline rush threatening to morph into nervous laughter. She clamped her lips shut and without conscious thought, threw her purse at him. The idiot caught it.

_'What_ is going on now?' said a sweet, feminine voice.

Sirius' laughter died away and she smiled as she turned to look at Batty.

'Everything's fine,' she answered, glaring at the Marauder. 'Sirius was just leaving.'

'Too bad - why are you soaking wet?'

'Because of him.'

'You asked for it,' spat Sirius, Batty momentarily forgotten.

'I did not! I wanted you to go slow and you know it!'

'You'd wanted to get off!'

She had but that was beside the point. A loud pop like a firework rang out behind them the second she opened her mouth to argue.

'That's enough - both of you!' hissed Batty. Green eyes moving to the Stevensons' door, 'The baby next door has colic, the last thing his mum needs is for you two idiots to disrupt her limited sleep.'

Her glare moved from him to her and back. 'So unless you want to have a go Sirius, I'd fuck off if I were you. Fabian is already here, told him to go look for you lot at the shop. Go find him and _you,_ get inside.'

Sirius didn't hesitate to get on his bike and leave, the engine silent. Hermione watched him turn the corner before following Batty.

'Alright,' said the tiny witch as they reached the sitting room. 'What happened now?'

Hermione told Batty everything, beginning with Tony and Rosa's excellent news to the moment where she'd shown up, careful to omit the bit about dragons. For her part, Batty listened to her rant about bloody motorbikes and stupid men. When she was finally done, Hermione turned to the tiny witch and waited for the older woman's judgement.

Soft green eyes met her own. 'And now you're dripping wet cos he was going too fast, trying to get you off when all you wanted was for him to slow down? But the prick didn't listen cos he was too busy making you scream?'

'Yes!'

'That bastard.'

Hermione nodded, completely in agreement. Batty coughed and turned away, her hand covering her mouth, body shaking with what she assumed was a hacking cough.

'I sent Hooky away on the excuse that he should visit his friends at Hogwarts. I reckon he'll get back any second now. Go wash love, you reek of Mottlewart.'

She doesn't know how long she'd been in the shower. With the cool water running over her and the scents of Batty's home-made soaps and shampoos, time slipped away from her. Teeth brushed, lotioned up, pajamas on, hair combed - she found comfort in the repetition of these acts and no thoughts plagued her mind. No sooner had she pulled back her duvet, than a jet of blue-white light shoot through her door. Hermione ducked behind her chair, arm and hand outstretched, holding a wand that did not exist.

The stream of light shifted and took shape into the form of a giant and all too familiar dog. Hermione released a breath she'd not known she was holding as her shoulders dropped.

'Come downstairs, I have something of yours,' it said before disappearing.

The brunette slumped against the wall beside her tiny desk, relief surging through her. Though she didn't care to be summoned, her curiosity was peaked and so she made her way downstairs.

She found him in the sitting room, besides one of Batty's bookshelves, reading a book with a small smile pulling at his lips. She knew immediately what the _something of yours_ was and she mentally kicked herself.

Sirius had her purse. He was carrying it in fact and she took a second to wonder how it was possible that he could pull off such a thing and still ooze masculinity. He looked up and immediately set the book down. The Marauder reached for the strap which crossed over his right shoulder and down to his left hip.

She caught it the second he threw it to her.

'I was halfway home when I realised I had your purse with me and I wasn't sure if you had the port-key in it or not...?'

Hermione shook her head, both surprised and suspicious of his intentions.

'I don't. I always carry it in a pocket.' _Or bra._

'Right.' He nodded. 'Had to make sure. Batty let me in and headed to bed.' He gestured to her purse, 'I swear I didn't look at your shit, but I stopped at Tony's before I came. Accio'd out the mushrooms and left them hanging on your corner where you dry out your herbs and things. Didn't fancy coming back and risking the chance of Hooky molesting me.'

The witch nodded slowly, more than a bit confused. 'Yeah - no ... I get that.'

'I'll be going then, just wanted to make sure you got your purse. I used Tergeo on it but I'd still wash it if I were you.'

Hermione blinked. Why was he being so casual and nice?

_What's he playing at?_

Sirius nodded once, the very smile she'd found him with back on his face. Dancing eyes moved towards the opened book and back to meet her own. He raised an eyebrow at her before making his way towards the back garden, the chrome of his bike catching the light. In a matter of seconds he was gone and she was left standing in the room clutching at her purse wondering what the hell was going on.

She moved towards the book and lifted it. It was a book of herbs, opened to a page with a very detailed drawing of Mottlewart. She huffed a laugh the second she read the description.

_Mottlewart is an unique fungi indigenous to the British Isles. Grown best in soil rich with pixie droppings, this type of fungi is often mischaracterised on account of it's shape shifting abilities and floral scent. _Mottlewartius Daervica_ is not of the Morphious variety, nor is it Floral. It is of the Luminescent species..._

They'd both been wrong.

Hermione shook her head, the corner of her lip twitching.

_Bastard._


	11. Natter

Muchas gracias David :)

* * *

**Silver**

Natter

* * *

Hermione stifled a yawn as her eyes watered. She was tired. And sleepy. And drained. Her head hurt a bit and she felt sluggish.

It was only midday and Hermione'd had enough. Already, the young witch was more than willing to close up shop and go home. Except she couldn't. It'd been two weeks since Tony and Rosa had gone and she had a business to run until they returned.

Batty had called her an idiot for working when she'd been offered time off, with pay, and Hermione was beginning to see her point. She'd never admit it but the old witch had been right.

A sniff and a grumble broke the silence. Hermione glared at the petunias sat before her as she ignored the sound, for the hundredth time that day, and turned to the clock above the shop door. Another yawn. She still had five hours to go.

The brunette blinked away tears as her eyes watered again.

Another grumble and she bit her tongue. He was trying her frayed nerves and she honestly didn't have it in her to stay quiet. Not after a week and a half of his whinging.

Another muttered noise. Another huff. Another sniff. And she snapped.

'Will you shut up?!' spat Hermione, glaring at Sirius who was sat behind the work table on her far right.

Grey eyes turned to slits. 'I'm hot.'

'Yeah? So am I and you don't hear me crying about it!'

Sirius shook his head before looking away and her annoyance grew. She shouldn't have talked for him but really, she'd been fighting the urge for a week.

Hermione wasn't used to the constant silence. Tony or Rosa were always here, one of them would visit her for a chat. She'd grown used to a certain level of human interaction and with them gone, the silence had become too much.

Her mind wandered and there were only so many distractions the flower shop held. Tony's apothecary was constant movement and brewing. Rosa's was a lot of sitting. In a village this small, there were only so many occasions a person would buy flowers and she'd begun to suspect that the main revenue for their business lay in the back. The flower scented shop was literally just a front.

'You're an idiot Granger.'

She grit her teeth and picked up the watering can in the sink.

'And judging by your silence, you know it.' From the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head. 'Working when you could be off. With pay, honestly.'

She slammed the can down on to the nearest display. Water sloshed upwards and settled back down with a dull clunk.

'Stop. Talking.' she ordered.

Sirius scoffed. 'You started it.'

'Shut it!'

The Marauder gave her a dirty look before looking away. She picked up the can again and was about to water a flower when he spoke again.

'You watered those yesterday. You're not supposed to water them again. Not for a few days.'

The brunette turned to Sirius, a steely edge to her voice that seemed to pop up every time she spoke to him.

'You're supposed to water plants everyday.'

'Not orchids. Those you're supposed to water only when their soil is dry.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I'm sorry? Who the hell are you to tell _me_ about Muggle plants?'

'Obviously someone who knows better than you. Water them and you'll kill the damn plant. Don't say I didn't warn you Granger.'

She scowled at his words as she weighed her options. The brunette wasn't sure, but she thought she'd read the same thing somewhere. Orchids were notoriously fickle things. She couldn't let him win though. Hermione did the next best thing and mimicked watering the plant. Because.

Behind her, Sirius sniffed and she glared at him over her shoulder.

'When are they coming back?'

Hermione bit her tongue.

They already were back but the couple had decided to take their maternity leave and technically she hadn't been asked to take care of the flower shop. The need for human interaction had pulled her here. The Apothecary wasn't very busy but she as the brewer stuck in the cellar hadn't been aware of that. She figured the flower shop would have gotten more clientèle but she was very wrong.

She knew Godric's Hollow was small but this was ridiculous. How did these shops even stay open? In the time she'd taken charge of the shops, she'd only sold one thing. Via owl. To Hooky.

She hated to admit it, but Sirius' snark was a welcomed distraction.

With a tired sigh, Hermione went back to the till deciding against watering anything. These plants could die for all she cared but knowing Tony's love for his wife, the plants had been charmed to last.

Four hours and thirty-five minutes to go.

Screw it. She was done. Tony and Rosa would understand.

She reached the front door and locked it.

'Finally!' exclaimed Sirius as she walked past him towards the back door to the other shop. 'I was going half mad sitting there.'

'Yes because sitting here will be different,' she bit back.

The Marauder glared at her but didn't reply.

'Bloody moron,' she mumbled under her breath.

'Fuck you Granger,' he spat, surprising her until she remembered the damn Animagus hearing.

She smirked before turning to him, eyes wide with feigned surprise.

'How'd you hear that?' she breathed out. 'I whispered it!'

He froze. Struck mute with shock. He managed to recover fairly quickly though.

'No you didn't,' he said with a slight shake of his head. 'You think you did, but you said it loud enough.'

Hermione ran her eyes over him. 'No I didn't ... I know what I said and how I said it ... How did you hear me?'

'I already told you.'

She stared him down as he shifted from one foot to another. Hermione moved towards the cellar, flicking on the light switch. Eyes still watching him.

When she was satisfied with his unease, she went down the stairs, smiling her triumph. Loud steps trailed behind her as they moved downstairs. Annoyed, she wanted him completely unnerved.

Hermione pulled out her utensils. Eyes downcast, she recalled a vague memory that for some reason had stayed with her.

_'I'm allergic to Moondew,'_ he'd said. _'Makes me sneeze like mad.'_

The witch reached under the table and pulled out a small container. She didn't hesitate to open it and rubbed at the dry leaves, releasing their potent aroma. The effect was instantaneous. A loud and overly exaggerated sneeze escaped the dog Animagus and she jumped. Hermione turned to glare at him.

'Do you need to sneeze like that?!'

Too busy having a fit, he didn't reply or acknowledge her. Instead he pulled out a hanky and began to blow his nose, occasionally broken by a sneeze. Somewhat pleased with herself, the witch smiled as she closed the jar and wiped her hands.

After several minutes he quieted down. She looked at him over her shoulder before dicing leeches, not feeling a bit guilty.

'Did you use Moondew?' he asked, sounding congested.

'Yes.'

'You,' he managed to say before being interrupted by a sneeze. '-know some people are allergic to it?'

She nodded as he blew his nose. 'I am yes.'

'Couldn't you have warned me?! Or even bothered to ask me if I was before you started to bloody used it?'

'I could have yes. Except I didn't think it would affect you sitting all the way over there. Usually, a person needs to be pretty close to it.' She glanced at him with an arched eyebrow. 'Not sat across the room.'

'I have a sensitive sense of smell.'

Hermione sniffed. 'Enhanced hearing _and_ smell- what are you? A bloody dog?'

_'-What?!'_

She frowned at the wide eyed Marauder, 'What?'

They stared at each other. He trying to figure out if she knew anything as she smothered her smug glee.

'Nothing,' he replied slowly. Grey eyes studying her.

She blinked at him and his frown turned into a glare. Shed'd been far too vague for him to ask anything without giving away his secret. She might have heavily implied he was an Animagus but how could she know about Padfoot? For all he knew she was speaking literally.

Hermione grinned at him before lighting the fire beneath her cauldron. Sirius scowled as he took his usual seat and turned on the radio.

The hours passed quickly after that.

With August a week away, the heat was reaching a sweltering high. Grass was going yellow and mud became hard dirt. The humidity was thick and it hit her in the face as they closed up shop.

Sirius groaned behind her and for once, she didn't get annoyed. If anything, she was a bit sympathetic. Invisibility cloaks weren't exactly heavy but the heat underneath was uncomfortable at the best of times. In this weather, it must've been unbearable.

Their steps were sluggish. Exhausted from boredom and heat, neither was in a rush to walk faster than unnecessary.

Around them, the sounds of a construction site could be heard. Godric's Hollow was growing and a whole street was currently getting built. It wasn't a huge project. At most three homes would fit the plot but the whole village was buzzing with endless possibilities that only the unknown could bring.

They shuffled along and the noises grew louder. A jackhammer pounded into stone and metal clanked. A man called out to another about more bricks and as they passed the street, the noises began to fade away. But not before sparking a memory of air guitars, her dad and a tune.

_'... all in all ... you're just another brick in the wall...'_ she sang under her breath, smiling lightly.

'Can you shut the fuck up?' hissed Sirius, somewhere to her left. 'Your voice isn't made for singing.'

'Sure _Snuffles.'_

The sound of cloth tearing reached her eyes and she looked down.

_'What did you call me?!'_

Hermione stared at his very visible boot before shaking her head and continuing her walk. 'Nothing Sniffles- honestly, blow your damn nose.'

She could feel his glare and she turned her face away, smiling. Honestly, the idiot child deserved it after the way he'd treated her. He was just lucky she didn't have her wand... she blinked as her chest tightened. She pushed the thought aside as her head began to throb.

_No use getting mad over pointless shit Hermione._

The brunette turned the corner and the bakery came into view as warm metal brushed against the back of her hand. She turned her palm over, accepting his money.

'Ham and cheese.'

Honey Buns read the shop door, a faded image of two young women holding up round loaves where their breasts were. She heard Sirius walking away, followed by the sound of rustling leaves. As he used the loo, she stepped into the shop.

The sound of laughter rang around her, abruptly cut by her appearance.

'Hermione!'

She smiled brightly at the older women. The tallest of the two, Dot, stood.

'How are you dear?'

She nodded at the thin woman, who's pointed features were bellied by a pair of big brown eyes, and white, soft curls.

'The usual love?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Not tonight thanks, I've got a craving for ham and cheese.'

'Oh,' Maggie said, a cup of tea held by her lips before taking a sip. 'Experimenting tonight dear?'

She smiled at the doughy woman, big round glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

'I'm adventurous,' she deadpanned and the two Muggles laughed as a man entered the shop.

Dot's eyes moved from her to him and back again. Hermione turned and immediately recognised him from around the village.

'Hermione dear, have you met Thomas Miller?'

She turned when her name had been called and smiled at the man, his clothes dirty with dust and grime. 'Not properly, no.'

'Well then!' said Dot. 'Let me do the honours! Hermione, Thomas- Thomas, Hermione!'

A rueful smile graced the blond man's lips before he ran a hand over his hair, patting it down.

'Pleasure to finally meet you 'ermione.'

'You could have said hello before you know.' She smiled. 'But yes, it is. How are you Thomas?'

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak Dot cut him off.

'Well, you know love,' she said with a stage whisper, 'Thomas is a bit on the shy side.'

Dark eyes turned to the blond who blinked at the thin woman. Hermione opened her mouth to say something but the woman talked over her.

'He's usually working too - such a hard working young man, he is. Takes care of his sick Mum too you know? Such a swee-,'

'-Dottie? Hermione's food?'

'Hm?' replied the Muggle woman, turning to her friend. 'Oh! Right. Ham and cheese coming up!'

The woman walked toward the kitchen muttering to herself as Maggie followed behind, shaking her head.

Thomas cleared his throat and she turned back to him.

'Tom,' he said and elaborated when she began to frown. 'Call me Tom.'

Hermione smiled at him. 'Just got off work?'

He chuckled, twisting his hat between his hands. 'Yeah. I'm part of the construction crew building the new road. How about you? Batty need anything?'

She shook her head. 'No, just got out of work myself. Got hungry. Stopped for one of Dot's world famous sandwiches.'

'Yeah. It's not delicious if it's not dry eh?'

'Definitely,' she laughed as Dot and Maggie began to argue in the kitchen. 'Or soggy with pickle juice.'

He chuckled. 'Yeah but that's when they're best! All that juice running down your hands...'

Hermione shook her head. 'That's because you're doing it wrong. Suck on it before taking a bite.'

Tom stared at her and she froze mid word, worried she'd said something wrong but then-

'Is this really the place to be talking about oral sex?'

Hermione turned and glared at the idiot as he entered the shop and she realised it wasn't her who Tom had been staring at.

The Marauder took a few steps further into the shop when he began to grin, grey eyes trained on the shorter man beside her.

'No Bullshit! I didn't recognise you mate.'

_No Bullshit?_

Tom gave a tight lipped smile and she got the very real sense that he was annoyed. 'How are you Sirius?'

'I am absolutely peachy,' he answered, looking between her and Tom and she clenched her jaw at his subtle wink.

'Aren't you going to introduce us?' he asked the blond.

After a bit of staring that confused her, Tom nodded. 'Hermione this is-,'

_'Sirius!'_

All three turned as Maggie entered the room, beaming. 'My dear boy how are you? I haven't seen you in ages!'

Hermione's eyes grew wide as the idiot smiled. It looked sincere enough that it gave her pause. Tom cleared his throat and she blushed when she realised her mouth had fallen open.

'Sorry,' she said, 'I-I...'

'Have you come for a visit? Come sit down and have a cuppa.'

Maggie had already reached for a mug when he waved them down. 'I really can't stay, I'm sorry. I was just passing by and decided to pop in and say hello.'

Maggie smiled even wider, 'Such a wonderful lad, coming down to visit two old hags.'

The Marauder grinned and Hermione frowned, irritated by his presence.

'Beauty doesn't turn haggard Mags, it only matures and inspires.'

The dumpy woman threw her head back and let loose a belly laugh. Beside her, Tom snorted.

Hermione felt out of sorts. She couldn't believe these kind people saw _him_ as their own. Was she the only one who knew him? _Didn't they see that he was stringing them along?_

Her jaw clenched when he turned to look at her. A smirk pulling at his lips. He winked at her and her hands curled into fists.

'Here you are Hermi- _Sirius!_ Oh my sweet Lord, how are you chick?!'

The Animagus nodded at the thin woman. 'Hello Mrs Thompson. How are you?'

'I'm well and you? We haven't seen you lately. Out breaking hearts are you?'

'Of course he is!' exclaimed the other woman. 'Just look at him! Such a handsome boy.'

Hermione blinked. Her mind refusing to accept the fact that these little old ladies were fawning over Sirius Black, pain in the arse extraordinai- _was he blushing?!_

Tom cleared his throat again- much louder than before, drawing everyone's attention.

'Sorry?'

The blond man shook his head. 'Nothing.'

'Sirius love,' said Maggie, pushing Dot aside. 'Have you met Hermione?'

The Marauder's smile grew as he nodded at her. 'Yeah, Tom was just about to introduce us. Nice to meet you Heather.'

'-Hermione,' she corrected him. Her fists clenched as she tried her hardest not to glare at him.

'Right. Sorry,' he replied, sounding completely insincere.

'No problem Sombre.'

'-Sirius.'

'-Of course.'

The pair glared at each other and only stopped when Tom once again cleared his throat. To their mutual surprise, they found themselves the centre of attention.

Whereas Dot and Tom were scowling, Maggie was grinning.

'Right, I'll be going then- it was nice seeing you Maggie, Mrs Thompson.'

Dot nodded to him as the shorter woman demanded a hug off the Marauder. 'Say hello to Monty and Phemmy for us when you see them dear. It's been so long.'

Sirius smiled at the taller woman. 'I will ma'am, have a good night.' The Marauder then turned to them. 'Tom ... Helen.'

'Hermione,' corrected the three women and again he apologised before walking out.

She doubted anyone saw the smirk he gave her. Even if they had she felt this lot would be biased since they all seemed to bloody love him. She sniffed- a wonderful lad her arse.

'...rmione?'

She blinked and felt her cheeks burn. _Why did she keep staring at things?!_

The witch turned to Dot, accepting her order.

'Are you walking alone dear?'

Hermione paid the old woman, nodding. 'I am yeah.'

'Oh- no that will not do! I'll just run out and yell for Sirius!'

'Mags no! Why bother him when he looked to be in a rush- besides ... Thomas is here. I'm sure this strapping young lad is more than willing to help her out. Isn't that right dearie?'

Before he could reply, Maggie spoke up again. 'Yes but he must be tired from all that work. Sirius didn't-'

But whatever Sirius didn't do she never found out because Tom grabbed her by the elbow and quicky guided her out. The two were walking side by side, and a few feet away from the shop before he spoke.

'Sorry about that,' he said rubbing his neck, speaking to the floor.

Hermione huffed a laugh. 'It's alright, don't worry about it and please don't feel inclined to walk me.'

The blond's head shot up and the look in his eyes showed her what she already knew.

She laughed at his nervousness. 'I'm a big girl Tom. Don't feel guilty for not wanting to take me. I'm not your responsibility and I know you must be tired.'

The short man, who's height was parallel to her own, shook his head. 'No. I want- I mean- if you want I could- I'd love to...'

Hermione grinned as she stared into his dark eyes, touched by his awkward offer. It was sweet of him but really, Batty's was only a street away. She didn't need another man watching over her and besides, she knew for a fact that he lived the opposite way. Once again, she politely declined his offer.

He took it in stride, smiling at the ground and once again twisting his hat. 'No, yeah. It's for the best. I have medication to apply anyway. I have a rash, burns a bit and all but yeah it's fine...'

Somewhere beside them a snort rang out and Tom looked up, eyes turning to the spot she'd heard the moron.

'Did you hear that?'

She nodded. 'Yeah, probably just a stupid dog.' Hermione began walking away. 'Have a good night Tom.'

'Goodnight Hermione.'

The second she saw him turn the corner, she threw the sandwich at the same spot Tom had been looking at. Sirius laughed as he caught it, the paper wrapped sandwich floating in mid air.

Her annoyance flared and she walked away, leaving him behind.

The second she arrived home and felt the cooling charm hit her skin, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She was done with Sirius for the day.

The young witch walked into the kitchen and drank a cool glass of water. She heard Batty and Hooky laugh and her lips curled. They were watching Monty Python. She laughed when she recognised the Black Knight scene and she moved to sit in the space between them.

The second she did Batty handed her her wand. A flare of magic and blue fire burned in her hand. Laughing and focused on the telly, the older witch flicked her fingers and the fire vanished, only to appear on the candles before her.

She groaned. 'Not today- I'm tired...'

'Shhh.'

Batty nodded. 'You heard the rat. Get to it.'

With a tired sigh she accepted the wand as she kicked off her shoes.

Hermione stared at the five candles stood in a row, all in varying degrees of melting stages. She twirled and swished Batty's wand as she focused her magic inwards, directing it at the flames. They all flickered but only one went out.

She sighed and Batty patted her knee before relighting the candle. The brunette blinked when her eyes caught the words on the newspaper, _Death Eaters Raid Diagon Alley!_

Batty had begun getting the Daily Prophet again and though she fought her curiosity, Hermione still found that her eyes managed to seek out the front page headlines. Anger bubbled in her belly and her mouth turned sour.

She moved the wand again and this time, all the flames went out.

* * *

Sirius shook his head as the door closed.

He wondered if she'd noticed the knowing looks from Mrs. Thompson. The old woman hadn't exactly been subtle. He doubted it though, Granger was fucking oblivious.

Godric's Hollow was a small village. With three shops and a pub, it was a community completely dependent on itself. Because of that, everyone knew each other and new people were met with suspicion. Granger had been no different.

Now though, with the old woman's meddling, Hermione had been accepted without even noticing.

She was fucked now. The old women wouldn't rest until they saw her shacked up. Shit, he'd have suffer through awkward flirting. It could be worse he supposed, Mags wasn't trying to set him up. So far she hadn't tried.

Thank fuck for that.

Sirius walked towards his usual tree. Two houses down from Batty's, it was the only shady spot both ends of the street were visible from. He slumped against the trunk with a hearty bite of his sandwich, No Bullshit's awkward goodbye ringing in his ears.

He snorted around a mouthful of food.

Bullshit didn't stand a chance even if Hermione had been interested.

Girls like Granger didn't go for blokes like that- like _them,_ if he was honest.

Her face lit up when having an intelligent conversation for Merlin's sake. Birds like her were all about books, tea and missionary. _Boring._ No way in hell she'd go for a bloke who didn't know the difference between his head and cock. The idea that Mrs Thompson saw potential, made him question her sanity. With her age, senility wasn't far off.

_I have a rash, burns a bit and all but yeah it's fine._

Sirius snorted before taking another bite. The idea of her and Bullshit together was absolutely ridiculous. He frowned as he swallowed. Why'd he even care?

His focus moved on. Drifting towards the vague and pointless to the urgent and important. Always ending with the war and a familiar mask.

He hadn't visited Grimmauld in over a month, not since he'd begun to look after Granger. Mental exhaustion didn't exactly encourage an urge to go out.

Grey eyes moved in the direction of Potter Hall.

He hadn't visited the ancient estate either. He did Floo though ... every now and then. A stab of guilt shot through him as Mrs Potter's worried voice echoed in his head.

_Are you okay love?_

I'm fine he'd answered. _Lied._ She knew it too, but it never stopped her from asking. The older witch was always worrying over them. She wasn't physically involved in the war but it was no less taking it's toll...

He wasn't hungry anymore.

A flick of his wand and what remained of his sandwich vanished. The ache in his forehead and gut sharpened as dark clouds moved over the village, blocking out the sun.

The last two hours dragged on like they usually did.

Night fell, street lights came on and the quiet street grew quieter as he fought to stay awake. The silence occasionally broken by the faint sounds of telly and laughter. It was with a sigh of relief that he heard the distant ringing of St. Andrew's bells.

Sirius stood as the sound of metal on stone echoed around him. He knew what that noise was, but his heartbeat still quickened. The Marauder palmed his wand and held his breath, eyes darting from one end of the street to another and he froze as Mad-Eye appeared. Bowler hat aside, the older wizard cut an imposing figure as the light behind cast an imposing shadow. The silhouetted figure walked towards him, the clunk and thud of his staff and leg growing louder.

He aimed his wand at the Auror's chest, fighting the urge to smile. Sirius was positive it was Moody, but he still had to do this. He was, after all, a very responsible adult.

The Animagus could practically feel the waves of dislike pouring out of Alastor. The corner of his mouth twitched.

'Black,' growled the approaching Auror. 'Anything to report?'

The Marauder raised his wand higher and the Scotsman's one good eye glared. He shrugged as Moody's shoulders tensed. Sirius' grin split his face.

'What's your patronus?'

The hardened Auror squared his jaw and pulled out his wand. A flash of blue and white mist erupted from the tip before settling and taking shape at his feet. A small egg-shaped creature, no bigger than his palm stared up at them. Button nosed with big round ears and beady eyes- it was titchy and fluffy. A tiny, little thing caught between a bunny and a mouse.

It was fucking adorable.

He'd named it Maddy.

'Maddy!'

He bent down to pet the thing when it vanished.

'Aw,' he said sadly, looking up at its master. 'I wanted to play with her.'

His comment was rudely ignored. The old Auror was far more interested in repeating his question and getting an answer.

Sirius nodded, lowering his voice, head inching closer to the older wizard's.

'Granger likes the pickle,' he answered gravely. 'Voldemort must never know.'

'Black!' barked Moody, his good eye burning a hole into Sirius. 'This isn't a fucking game.'

The Marauder huffed a bitter laugh, head shaking as he interrupted the beginnings of a long-winded speech. 'Fuck all happened Mad-Eye. Like always.'

Sirius brushed past him without another word, he wasn't arguing over something he didn't care about. With a shake of his head, he turned the corner. Instinct leading him to Blossom Grove.

Hand hovering over the gate, he stopped before entering.

_Say hello to Monty and Phemmy for us when you see them dear. It's been so long._

It _had_ been too long...

Pale eyes moved over the cloudy skies. His head was sore and there was a dull ache behind his left eyeball- he just wanted to go home and put a cool flannel over it.

But they were worried.

He turned around. Booted feet breaking the silence around him as he made his way towards the outskirts of the village, well past Tony's shop. He walked until the cobbled roads gave way to broken pavement, which ended abruptly as it entered Potter land.

Thick woods and shrubbery surrounded him. He took a step and with a tingle of wards across his skin, the forest vanished and Potter Hall appeared in the distance.

Sat on a hill, overlooking the village and built before the International Statute of Secrecy, the old manor home was breathtaking. A smile formed on his lips as memories of youthful summers crossed his mind. When he'd been aware of Voldemort and his Death Eater's, but hadn't exactly known.

Before the war had touched him and he'd been forced to choose between what was right and blood.

He didn't regret his decision, just the cost.

_Sirius! Don't leave!_

Hands tucked in pockets, he walked up the torch lit path. The large, wooden doors opened as he neared them and shut behind him as he stepped through the threshold.

Piano music echoed around him and he followed the tune. Closed doors met his every step and a cold chill ran down his spine.

He pulled out his wand, hating how aware he was. The music continued playing as Sirius reached the small music room. Ear to wood, the pressure in his chest loosened at muffled laughter.

The Marauder's shoulders relaxed and he took a second before turning the knob.

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were sat on the couch as the piano played, laughing and cuddling under a blanket. The blonde witch spotted him first and she smiled brightly as Mr Potter turned to faced him.

'Sirius,' she said and guilt riddled him at the relief in her voice.

Monty stood as Phemmy bade him over with a wave of her hand. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him when he reached them. The usual scent of jasmine filled his nostrils.

'How are you love?' she asked. Her Irish brogue soft against his ear. 'It's been a while.'

His guilt intensified and something in his face must've shown because the older wizard chuckled. The blonde woman released him and turned to her husband.

'Don't guilt trip the lad dear. He just got here,' Mr Potter extended his hand. 'How are you son?'

The Marauder shrugged. 'Head hurts and I feel a bit shit. Hungry too.'

Mrs Potter snapped into action.

'Linny!' she called out and a plump house-elf, wearing a tiny apron appeared between them.

'Mistress called?' asked the tiny elf.

He smiled at the sudden onslaught of memories- enchanted pans chasing him through the house, buckets of freezing water waking him, the old elf coddling him when he felt poorly.

'Hi Linny.'

The House-Elf jumped at his voice but quickly turned to him. Big, bulbous eyes settled over him and all once began to tear up. The tiny elf bounced on her heels before bowing low.

'Master Sirius!' she squeaked. 'You's returned?'

He laughed as her ears wiggled and he reached out his arms for a hug. His knees buckled when she crashed into him. No sooner had her arms gone round his knees than she straightened up and glared at him. Big eyes moved from him to his knees, poking them as if they'd mortally wounded her.

She pushed him away, squinting up at him. 'Master Sirius is too skinny. Also looks shit. Needs sleep. Go to tables Master Sirius, Linny will feeds you up and then bed.'

And with that she disappeared. Smiling, he looked at the couple. Phemmy was suppressing a smile, Monty was outright grinning.

'You really do look shit dear.'

Mr Potter laughed, nodding.

'Come on love, you heard her- to the table!'

The older woman put her arms around him as they walked, Monty trailing behind.

'How are you Sirius?'

'I'm alright,' he answered automatically.

'Are you sure?'

_No._ 'Absolutely.'

'Okay. We're here if you need to talk.'

'I know.'

Within minutes they'd entered the opulent dining room and he smiled at the familiarity of it. Sirius took his usual seat and the sense of welcome increased as his favourite dishes appeared before him. Grey eyes turned to the married couple, only to find them smiling back at him.

He was home.

The animagus grinned before tucking in.

Midway through his meal Mrs Potter interrupted him. 'When was the last time you ate?'

His face heated up as a sheepish smile formed on his lips. He'd forgotten they were there. She scowled as her eyes studied him.

'I ate a sandwich this afternoon,' he answered, refilling his plate.

'And before that?'

He fought the urge to squirm beneath the regal woman's glare. 'A full English,' he lied.

'And before _that?'_

'That's enough Phemmy,' said Mr Potter. 'Leave the poor boy alone.'

The blonde woman continued her careful study of him. 'You've definitely lost weight... Are you _sure_ you've been taking proper care of yourself?'

He nodded, uncomfortable with being the focus of her maternal attention. 'I have yeah.'

The witch arched an eyebrow. 'Of course you haven't. Not with this war going on. And you in the Order.'

'And yet you continue to ask dear.'

She ignored her husband. 'How useful do you think you'll be when you're half-starved and weak? Look at you! You're practically skin and bones.'

'I'm not that thin,' he murmured, frowning, wondering if he was.

'You are lo-,'

'-Euphemia. That's enough. Let the boy be. He has more than enough to deal with, the last thing he needs is you mothering him.'

They caught up for over an hour. His meal occasionally ignored in exchange for conversation and laughter until the inevitable happened and they ended up talking about the war.

Always the fucking war.

'Have you heard of this new amendment regarding Auror recruitment?'

Sirius nodded at the wizard before drinking from his goblet, 'I did yeah, but I don't think it's for me.'

The wizard shook his head. 'It would be beneficial in the long run Sirius. Safer as well. Consider the offer thoroughly. The Order may be more informed, prepared and stronger as a whole but it's small in comparison and there's always strength in numbers.'

'Except there aren't enough numbers,' he said, eyes on Monty. 'Otherwise the DMLE wouldn't be doing these speed through courses. Besides,' he said with a shake of his head. 'The Ministry's corrupt.'

'Everyone's corrupt dear,' replied Mrs Potter. 'At this point it's the lesser of two evils.'

Sirius frowned at his food. He loved the witch but that was a bit unfair.

'The Order is doing a lot more than the Ministry.'

'It's also illegal.'

He took a bite of his food. There was no way he could defend that. Monty spoke.

'The Ministry may be tolerant now but I doubt it always will be. Barty Crouch likes control far too much and strives for glory. He will not allow the Order to take that away from him. With the Aurors you can still fight and have some anonymity Sirius.'

He'd almost laughed at that.

'I'm a Black,' he reminded them, somewhat bitterly. 'Half of my family is out there wearing masks while the other half is vocally supporting Voldemort. There's no way in hell I'll ever have anonymity. Even now people look at me with suspicion. Hell, if it wasn't for Remus' furry little problem I'd be the least trusted Order member.'

Phemmy's eyes narrowed and her accent grew more pronounced. 'What do you me- _Who_ doubts you? And what's this about Remus?'

'Nothing,' he replied far too quickly, looking away from the witch. Speaking to his food. 'The Ministry's not right for me and I doubt I'm right for it.'

'My sources inform me that the majority of applicants will be accepted and acknowledged as fully fledged Aurors. It may not be a long term guarantee but it's a foot in the door. Just ... consider it.'

He already had. More than once, ever since the news had broken out that Aurors were now in short supply. It was tempting but he didn't like the survival rates. DMLE officials died on a daily basis. None of the Order had been lost yet.

'The Ministry is useless,' he said after several seconds. 'I can't work for them.'

'It's safer,' Mrs Potter echoed her husband.

The Marauder shook his head. 'Nothing's safe anymore.'

'Join the Aurors if you insist on fighting.'

Sirius' lips curved upwards in a bitter smile. 'That almost sounds like an order.'

Mr. Potter nodded. 'If we thought you'd listen, it would be.'

The food vanished before them, leaving behind their newly refilled goblets.

'I need to fight.'

The older couple shared a weary look as he drank from his cup, his frustration at their insistence building.

'Do you want me to stop?' he asked them, eyes downcast but his voice loud and clear. 'To sit back and hide as that bastard kills and murders innocent people?'

She shook her head, blue eyes boring into him. 'It's not that simple Sirius. It's not easy for us, not knowing how and where you are. We don't want you fighting, but we also know you won't stop. If it was up to us, you wouldn't even be on the island.'

He didn't look up as he spoke. 'I won't run.'

'We know,' said the older wizard. 'Though it's exactly what we want, we know it'll never happen. Which is why we ask that you think of the alternatives. Besides another Auror in the Order could be very useful.'

From the corner of his eye, Phemmy pierced her husband with a look which the wizard ignored.

'We worry about you Sirius.'

He blinked at the table. Guilt gripped him and he fought the urge to apologise.

'You don't have to worry about me,' he said quietly, twisting his goblet between two fingers.

'Why not?' asked Monty.

'Because I'm safe.'

He felt their eyes on him and he shifted in his seat.

'What do you mean by that?'

The Marauder finally looked up, really seeing the pair for the first time that night. They looked older than he remembered.

There was more grey in her hair than blonde and the lines of her face were more defined but her eyes were still lively. Mr Potter's laugh lines were deeper, the salt and pepper hair he remembered was going completely white. But behind silver frames, hazel eyes shone.

How long had it been since his last visit? A month or two? Three?

Either way the difference was obvious and he wondered if he had lost weight.

Sirius wrestled with the need to keep his mission secret and the urge to comfort the scared couple. In the end, blood was thicker than water.

'Under Dumbledore's direct order, I'm stationed in the village.'

Monty stopped mid sip and gave his wife a sideways glance. The witch stared at him, her jaw clenched. Dainty eyebrows furrowed. No one said anything.

_... Bollocks._

'How _long_ have you been in the village?' asked Phemmy. Accent very pronounced. Voice cold.

His shoulders dropped and his eyes grew wide. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. 'Um ... Two and a half months...? Maybe three? I don't remember ... a while?'

Sirius gulped the last of his wine, before placing his goblet down.

Monty huffed a laugh as he shook his head, raising his glass to smiling lips. 'You should've lied son.'

His mouth fell open as pale eyes moved between him and the witch.

'You've been in the village how long and you didn't visit?!'

Sirius gave her his most winning smile and the older witch snorted before looking away. He was saved from answering however as food refilled the table. Confused, they looked from one to the other, waiting to see who would eat. Before they could speak, the double doors burst open and James' ugly face appeared.

'Why are all the doors closed?' asked Prongs before spotting him. Dark eyebrows, behind gold frames shot upwards in surprise before he frowned. 'Get the fuck out. I need to talk to me Mum and Dad.'

Sirius quickly stood, 'Bye!'

He turned when he reached the doors and waved enthusiastically. Mr Potter's eyes bright, shoulders shaking. James frowning with confusion. He did not look at Mrs Potter. The shiver running down his spine far too potent. As he shut the door behind him, Phemmy called out.

'We're not done Sirius! And tell Remus he's far too skinny!'

He saw an out and took advantage of it. 'He was stationed here too!'

'Wha-!'

He slammed the doors, eyeing them with suspicion before heading to his bedroom.

Sirius yawned at the sight of his bed. He flopped on to his bed gratefully wand without a second thought. Relaxed and comforted by the safety of home, he shut his eyes.

A sudden bang woke him as his door burst open, making him jump.

'Rude,' he mumbled raising his head, bleary eyes staring at the darkness.

'Shut the fuck up. I need a smoke.'

Sirius reached under him and struggled to pull his fags out, eventually he gave up and rolled onto his back. He threw them at James as the bloke willed his balcony doors open.

The dog animagus yawned, rubbing his face. He sat up and kicked off his boots before joining Prongs. A light mist was falling across the grounds, dampening everything around them. He took off his socks before stepping out.

'How long you been here?'

Sirius shrugged, reaching into his pocket for his lighter. 'I don't know. What time is it?

'About twelve.'

'Four hours then.'

James exhaled, nodding, eyes roaming the grounds. 'Alright?'

'Yeah. You?'

The stag animagus ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head as he raised his fag to his lips. 'I had to get away from Lily.'

Sirius frowned, 'Why?'

'Cos if I didn't we'd end up having another row.'

'What do you mean?'

James inhaled. 'She started volunteering for dangerous missions. Moody asks and she's the first one to accept. It started simple but then one day a scouting job went wrong and it became a rescue mission. Edgar says it was a dungeon or something, I don't know I was down south, but Moony says it was after that that she started volunteering. I came back last week and she had a busted lip, a black eye and a broken nose. I asked her what happened but she wouldn't tell me. Said it was _mission related.'_

Sirius reached for a cigarette and with a flick of his lighter, inhaled hot smoke.

'I mean,' began James with an exhale, 'I get why she's keeping it a secret, we all do but I don't actively sign up for dangerous missions. I don't show up with a battered face, refusing to tell her a fucking thing!'

Sirius hummed, 'Except that you sort of do.'

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' asked James as furious hazel eyes turned to him.

The long haired Marauder shrugged. 'Think about it mate. How many times have you lied to her?'

'It's not the same thing.'

Sirius watched as James inhaled again. 'You've kept shit from her too.'

The stag animagus threw his fag over the railing before glaring at him. 'It's not the same thing,' he bit out.

'It is.'

James took a step towards him. 'Shut the fuck up Pads!'

Sirius squared up to James. Their faces inches away from each other. Blind fury burning in his best mate's eyes. He took a step back, never taking his eyes off James.

They stared at each other. Prongs waiting for an excuse to deck him.

In the end, James gave in, grabbing at his damp hair as he muffled a growl behind his clenched jaw.

'I don't know what to do,' he said sounding desperate. 'She won't fucking stop. Like it's up to her to save the fucking world. I've tried- _Merlin I've fucking tried_ to get her to see reason, but she won't! And the more I try, the more she sticks her head in the fucking sand! She's ...'

Sirius kept his eyes trained in the distance, his chest heavy as he tried to swallow a painful lump. His hands began to shake and his heart pounded in his chest. He took a drag and another and another. Screams of pain and cries for help rang in his head.

'... and I don't know what to do.'

'Run,' he said simply. 'Take her and go.'

Silence hung between them.

'We can't do that,' replied James and the pain in his chest sharpened.

This he realised was what the older Potters have been trying to say. This was what they felt: Fear for him fighting but relief at him staying.

James took another fag and moved to sit on the thick railing, his back against the manor wall. Sirius didn't move when James began to speak. Elbows bent again the stone, his back hunched as he watched the distant village, bright with light.

'I've a mission in Wales. Moody reckons I'll be gone over a month. I need you to watch over her mate. Keep an eye out for me, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Maybe volunteer to be her partner, make sure she sleeps and eats... shit like that.'

Sirius grimaced at that, regretting his next words. 'James- I can't.'

'Of course you can. When she begins to notice just put the blame on me. She'll still be pissed off but-'

'-Mate,' he said turning to face him. 'I can't.'

James blinked, frowning. Hazel eyes boring into his own, realisation dawning on him.

'You can ask to be transferred or removed. Come on mate, Wormtail is off somewhere and Remus just left for Scotland- I need you to do this for me-'

'-I won't be moved.'

'-You can at least ask!'

Sirius shook his head. 'They won't let me.'

'At least try!'

'I already have.'

'Try. Again.'

'I can't ask!' he spat, glaring.

'Moody-'

'-Who do you think I asked first?!' he snapped. 'Wanker threatened to kick me out of the Order!'

James scoffed. 'He was lying and you're a bloody idiot for believing him. He just doesn't like having his orders questioned.'

'Except this order didn't come from him- it came straight from Dumbledore.'

His best mate sat up straighter, frowning. 'What'd you mean?'

Sirius ran his hand through his hair. He hadn't planned on telling James. The thought hadn't crossed his mind but now that it had, he fought the urge to tell him everything.

He didn't know who Hermione Granger was. What she was hiding from. How she fit into this war or why she was so damn important- but he trusted his instincts. He didn't understand it, but the impulse to keep quiet was overwhelmingly strong.

It was James though.

'You can't tell anyone about this. Not even Lily. Understand?'

Prongs nodded and with a heavy sigh, he told him a shortened version of events leaving out important details like her name or location. By the time he was finished, James looked as confused and suspicious as he felt.

'What the fuck have they gotten you into?'

Sirius huffed a bitter laugh. 'That's the mystery innit?'

'So she's there now?' James asked with a nod to the village.

His head snapped around, eyes wide. Prongs shook his head.

'Mum bitched at me for not telling her you'd been stationed here. Told me off for not making you visit.'

'Ah. Yeah, she's there. I don't know how long I'll be watching her mate but I doubt I'll be moved-'

'-Don't worry about it. Seems you've got more important shit to do than to watch over my girlfriend ... Who do you think she is?'

'I don't know,' he murmured as James lit his fag. Pale eyes studying the village.

'No I don't reckon you do,' said Prongs around a mouthful of smoke. He could feel his best mate watching him and he turned to the bloke as he exhaled. 'So this bird of yours? Whoever she is, she's out of bounds yeah? Cos I doubt you two shagging would be a good thing.'

Sirius scowled, 'What the fuck are you on about?'

'You're stuck with a girl for twelve hours a day mate.'

He would've laughed if the mental image of Granger ridding him hadn't assaulted his brain. 'Trust me Prongs, that will _never_ happen.'

Dark eyebrows shot upwards and hazel eyes hid behind illuminated glasses. 'Not your type then?'

Sirius shook his head, 'Mate, she's a pain in the arse know-it-all who acts bloody superior and who can't shut her gob.'

'Sounds like you.'

He laughed, conceding to the point. 'Does a bit, yeah.'

James didn't laugh though and he felt himself grow irrationally angry. 'What's your point mate? All these little questions of yours. Just spit it out.'

'You're with this girl all day, alone. A bird with a mysterious past, who's obviously forbidden and didn't fall at your feet-'

'-What the fuck are you trying to say James?'

'She's a challenge and you've always loved the chase.'

His mouth snapped shut.

It was true and denying it was pointless.

He loved the thrill of wearing a reluctant girl down. It was rare for him to meet a girl who didn't want him for his money, looks or to tame him. When he finally met one, he got obsessed. Ge_t the girl._

But this was Granger. If Prongs knew her, he would have understood that nothing would ever happen between them. He said as much.

'Make sure nothing does Sirius,' James warned. 'There has to be a good reason why she's so important to the Order.' He shook his head. 'A mysterious bird who didn't drop her knickers immediately and _you._ A bloke who's used to getting his way and enjoys chasing after birds when he doesn't ... be careful mate. For once in your fucking life, think before you whip out your dick.'

Sirius sniffed before looking away. Dread filling him for some damn reason.

He shook it off.

'Nothing's gonna happen mate. Trust me,' he said harshly.

James huffed a laugh, nodding. 'Alright precious, keep your knickers on- I believe you... It's just as well too. Bit shit if you shagged the girl you're protecting. Conflict of interest and all...'

'Yeah.'

'Yeah.'

Sirius leant against the wall as he lit a fag. The lights of Godric's Hollow stood out beautifully against the stark darkness surrounding it, the village a small, beacon of light amidst the wilderness. He took a drag.

He knew he was in a delicate situation. He'd known it right away but he'd never considered it the way James had. The dog animagus exhaled with a sideways glance at his best mate. He was a bit insulted that that'd been his main concern.

Not, be careful mate or, make sure it's nothing too dangerous. Even an ask-questions-and-sod-them-if-they-don't-like-it would be better.

Instead he'd gotten a speech about keeping it in his trousers.

He was annoyed ... but also worried.

All three Potters now knew where he was stationed and though they wouldn't talk, he still felt anxious about his slip. He should've kept quiet.

_It's the Potters,_ his mind reasoned but the worried guilt remained.

Sirius stared at the ash on his cigarette. The smoke rising and moving between the falling mist. He ran his hand through his damp fringe, flattening it back against his skull. He fucked up. He shouldn't have said anything. He really was crap at this.

_Bit shit if you shagged the girl you're protecting._

The words were unbidden and came out of nowhere. He glared at the back of James' head.

He wasn't interested in Granger and he never would be. Fucking her was the least of his priorities- his eyes grew wide with sudden horror.

It was the least of _his_ priorities but it wasn't everyone's ... and as her guardian, he had to be present for everything short of the loo ... which meant- _fucking hell._

If Granger and No Bullshit shagged ... would he have to watch?

* * *

**A/N:** For those of you wondering, Moody's patronus is an American Pika.


	12. Illusion

Many thanks to Dave for betaing this chapter in record time. Much appreciated.

* * *

**Silver**

Illusion

* * *

Sirius scowled at his scuffed boots as he twirled a dry sprig of lavender.

Granger was acting weird.

As far as he knew, last night and all of this morning had gone off perfectly routine. He showed up, Mad-Eye gave him a report and he was left alone to wait for her to step out of the house. That was what they always done and today had been no different.

Except it hadn't. Cos Granger was being bloody weird.

He'd put it down as her being her usual bitchy self, with a dash of period related mood swings-he'd been on the receiving end of those more than enough- so he hadn't blinked twice when she'd walked right past him without a glance. But as the hours passed, he'd cottoned on to something being wrong.

Deflated was too stupid a word, but it was the only way to describe her. All the fire he'd come to know was gone and her lack of action, reaction and overall apathy was unnerving.

Sirius wasn't worried though. Not about her and definitely _not_ about her damn mood swings.

This was Hermione Granger. Bitch got on his nerves like no sodding other- she'd be the last person he worried over. Just the idea of it was ridiculous.

So he'd tried to get a rise out of her. He'd failed.

Pissing her off was as natural as breathing air and he had years of experience purposefully getting on people's nerves. All that talent had amounted to bugger all though because she'd ignored everything. He'd asked stupid question after stupid question, turned the radio up as loud as he'd been able to handle and the witch hadn't so much as batted an eye.

Sirius had gone from annoyed to frustrated to outright angry at the fact that her moods managed to screw with him. It had been an unpleasant epiphany, one he would've gladly gone without.

He turned the radio back on, the silence far too heavy and suffocating. Sirius eyed the brunette in the middle of the room.

Head downcast, bushy hair covering her face as her hands diced away- she'd not spoken or moved from her stool. Lunch had come and gone and after complaining to deaf ears about starvation and cruelty to animals, he'd summoned Linny. He'd eaten upstairs, behind the till, ignoring his guilt at not having offered her some.

Sirius shifted in his seat. His arse was sore and his back ached. He'd stretched, even walked around the cellar for a bit. Granger on the other hand, hadn't moved an inch. All bloody day, since she'd gotten here and sat, she'd not so much as squirmed. If he hadn't known better, the Marauder would've wondered if it really was her. The witch could have easily been a shitty imposter for all this Hermione had in common with the one who pissed him off effortlessly.

It was Granger though. She smelt like she always did. The Imperius or Polyjuice weren't even possible. She was too securely protected- which left one option. Something had happened. When she'd left him, she'd been fine, albeit annoyed but that wasn't unusual. Whatever had caused this must have occurred between the time she'd gotten home and come out the door this morning.

He was in the clear, leaving two possible options: the perverted old woman or the weird elf. Batty ... he wasn't sure she would do something to the younger witch. Would she fuck with Hermione? The Marauder doubted it. Hooky seemed like a typical elf. Happy to serve his mistresses, not batshit crazy or sadistic like Kreacher.

His mind kept wandering back to last night's events, to the Potter's individual faces and of the knowledge they now held. It was stupid of course but it was still niggling at the back of mind. Impossible situations having to do with his slip up reaching Granger through a series of odd coincidences, of her being discovered because he couldn't keep his mouth shut- he slammed his eyes closed, shaking his head as distant cries began to echo in his head.

She was shaken up and her silence was bothering him. That was all.

He opened his eyes, panting under his breath as he searched his surroundings. The edges of his vision blurry. Grey eyes darted to the stairs and small windows. He swallowed thickly, willing the pounding in his ears to stop as he took deep calming breaths.

He was in Godric's Hollow. He was safe. There was no need to get all girly. He wasn't James.

The long haired Marauder glanced at the witch and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't seen. Sirius stared down at the crushed lavender in his hand.

_Something was wrong._

Did Granger know something he didn't?

Normally, the answer would be no. Most people under protective custody didn't know a damn thing. They rarely asked about the war and those who did asked about specific areas in the country, usually their neighbourhoods, villages or towns. Hermione never had. She had never given any sign of caring about life beyond Godric's Hollow, but that didn't mean she wasn't aware of the war. Dumbledore had a personal interest in her so he couldn't be sure of anything. Granger could have easily been some sort of spy, sent to watch _him_ for all he knew.

_Fucking hell he was paranoid._

He needed fresh air. _No._ He needed a smoke.

Technically, she had to be within eyesight at all times but since she wasn't doing a fucking thing, he figured it was safe to go upstairs. As long as he stood by the shop doors, it'd be fine. The Marauder cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to grab her attention. He nearly jumped out his skin when Granger cried out.

Hissing whispers reached his ears and dark eyebrows shot upwards as the witch ran towards the sink. As the tap came on, the scent of blood filled the room. He frowned as he stood and found the source of it.

Her silver knife was covered with blood. A good amount of it as well. Enough to form a small puddle. She must've really hurt herself.

'Granger?'

When she didn't reply he walked towards her.

She'd cut her thumb and pointer finger. The cuts were deep and curved downwards, a second longer and her skin would have been cut off. Already the area around the wounds were beginning to bruise. Instinct took over and he pulled out his wand, reaching for her wrist.

He'd just grazed her hand when Granger snatched it back. Dark brown eyes, bright with unshed tears glared up at him. Accusing and damming him for daring to touch her.

_Never without my permission!_

He showed her his wand while raising his empty hand, palm up and facing her.

'I just want to help,' he said and the witch clenched her jaw. Sirius scoffed, shaking his head. He was just trying to be fucking kind. 'Trust me.'

Suspicious eyes moved from him to his wand and he huffed a laugh realising how ridiculous he'd sounded just then. 'Yeah, alright,' he admitted, nodding at her before pointedly looking at her hand. 'Just...'

_Trust me._

The brunette hesitated even as her cuts continued to bleed, staining the porcelain sink with red streaks. The pain must've made her see reason, because suddenly her dainty hand was resting in his larger one. He tried not to think about the warmth she radiated.

Paler than his own, her fingers were long and slender, her tiny wrist felt fragile in his grasp. She didn't have painted nails he noticed and her skin wasn't smooth- small cuts littered her fingers. The Marauder took a closer step and found himself towering over the witch. He blinked down at her as pale eyes ran down her face, settling on her lower lip.

With a silent incantation, he ran his wand over her wounds.

Muscles began to stitch themselves back together and Granger hissed at the stinging sensation he knew all too well. He looked up at the sound and his eyebrows shot up a fraction with sudden awareness. He'd never realised how small she was. The witch was petite, just managing to reach his shoulders, but he could've sworn she was bigger.

Sirius frowned, wondering how he'd missed it.

Her lower lip was swollen and marked from where shed bitten it. Freckles peppered her nose. Dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and long lashes that fluttered with her every blink as she fought back tears. The Marauder blinked as his gut squirmed. He was no good with crying women and the last thing he fancied was having to deal with a crying Granger. That wasn't part of the job. Sirius looked down, just in time to see the last of her cut close.

He took a step back and the witch met his stare with a frown.

She opened her mouth and for a second he thought she was going to thank him. He should've known better.

Granger's glare returned as she took a step back and moved around him. He felt his lips curl, amusement dancing in his eyes as he turned to watch her continue her brewing.

_This was definitely Granger._

Sirius shook his head as he made his way back to his little corner. He glanced at the back of her head as he passed her and abruptly stopped. His eyes ran the length of her table and the Marauder frowned.

She hadn't brewed a single potion.

All the cauldrons were clean and everything looked untouched, the only things on the table were her knife and the peppermint she'd diced over and over again, now mixed with her blood. The cuttings resembled a bloody paste rather than actual leaves. They were completely useless.

He turned to Granger, her surprise evident in her features.

She blinked and he heard the hitch in her voice before she spoke. 'I ruined everything.'

His chest ached at her quiet and defeated tone, the strength of it shocked him. Sirius didn't think twice before vanishing the mess and summoning his stool. He sat next to her and began cutting peppermint for tomorrow. It was too late to start brewing, she would have to settle with preparing the needed ingredients today.

He felt her staring at him and he turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

Granger was frowning again but he didn't care, Sirius went back to his dicing. After a few seconds, she picked up a clean knife and began cutting the leeches for the Blood Replenishing potion.

She didn't correct him this time and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't odd. Hermione didn't even acknowledge him which made the whole thing worse. Sat behind her in the corner was nothing compared to being sat next to her, not with her mood the way it was right now. Up close, it was much worse.

Granger didn't speak, eyes downcast and her cutting precise- but for all her movements, it was obvious she wasn't there.

Her shift ended and only he noticed.

They left the shop later than usual as they had to bottle and store the ingredients, only to go back when he realised her purse was missing- he found it on her table.

Sirius didn't mention stopping at Honey Buns for his daily sandwich and Granger didn't seem to care. She just walked as his frustration built. He wanted to shake her and to tell her to snap the fuck out of it but he dismissed the idea as soon as it'd come.

It wasn't his problem and he didn't care.

He couldn't stop looking to the witch beside him as they walked. One foot in front of the other, looking straight ahead, unseeing and uncaring of the world around her. Mechanical and detached. It wasn't right.

With a great sense of relief they finally reached Batty's door and he waited patiently as she dug and dug _and dug_ through her little purse, looking for her keys. She didn't find them and Sirius shifted from one foot to another- desperate to have her hurry the fuck up so he could escape her suffocating presence.

Granger knocked after giving up, her forehead resting against the red door. A handful of knocks later, Sirius' impatience grew. He wanted to blast the fucking door open, even a less satisfying _Alohomora_ would have been better than this but he wasn't that stupid.

Dumbledore had definitely done something to Batty's home and he didn't fancy finding out what.

The dog animagus stepped behind her and her shampoo tickled his nose. He raised a fist, pounding at the door. No one opened it.

'Call the elf Granger,' he said after several more knocks.

The witch frowned, looking over at him when he repeated himself. He saw the moment his command registered.

'Hooky,' she said, her voice rough.

Before she'd finished speaking, the door swung open and the tiny elf beamed up at them. Wide eyes dismissed him in favour of the witch beside him.

'Sorry Miss Hermione, but Batty is visiting her Phemmy and Hooky is not to open the door until asked.'

The brunette didn't reply. She moved past him and Hooky without a backwards glance, taking the stairs with the same frustrating indifference. A creak of wood and a close of a door.

Sirius frowned, turning to the weird elf, only to find him glowering at him.

'She's been like that all day,' he explained and the elf's ears wiggled, before his tiny shoulders dropped. 'Tell Batty.'

Hooky didn't say anything as he shut the door. The Marauder turned and headed to his spot, pulling out a fag as he did. His chest heavy and mind racing.

Sirius didn't care- he _really_ didn't.

He just wanted to know what had caused her strange mood.

* * *

She had dreamt of Diagon Alley.

She'd been standing in the middle of the cobbled street as witches and wizards ran past her. Weasley's Wizading Wheezes stood in the distance as smoke billowed around her. Posters of Harry stared out at her as she shook her head at him. Disbelief pouring out of her because he wasn't alive yet. It was only nineteen seventy nine and he should've known that.

Pained screams and faint cries had echoed around her as faceless Muggleborns reached out to her, begging for help but she only shook her head. So sorry, but she couldn't help. She had to get to the bank and deposit the diadem.

Hermione had woken up in a cold sweat, heart racing, wide eyes staring into the darkness surrounding her. Panic pinned her to the bed as she pulled the covers over her head, trying to calm the chill that had settled on her bones.

It was pointless.

All traces of sleep left her once her mind began to race. Thoughts she'd successfully pushed away came forward in a sudden flood which the silence seemed to intensify.

Eventually, night gave way to light and she met the sun with numb silence.

It took all her strength to convince herself to get up. She finally managed it, despite knowing that it was completely pointless. Unfortunately, life didn't care for pathetic, little feelings.

By midday, her mood had worsened and no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept drifting back to that dream.

The day passed without her really noticing. Every sound was background noise, all movement was uneventful. Pointless motions and useless words. Unreal and seen through a lens.

All day she'd wished for nothing more than to be back home in bed and now that she was, she wished for mindless oblivion rather than _this._

The brunette shut her eyes at the onslaught of images, distant cries and long forgotten memories pushed to the forefront of her mind. Her chest burned, her belly ached and she struggled to breathe.

The world felt too big.

Routine had moved her throughout the days as repetition guided her- both a flimsy barrier shielding her from the reality she still couldn't face ... but it wasn't enough anymore.

Every protective wall she'd built was breaking down around her, one stone at a time and she powerless to stop them. Nothing she'd believed in had been real.

Hermione blinked, frowning as she raised her fingers to eye level.

The blood had been real. And the pain. That was the only true thing, everything else was a mirage. The happiness she'd found had been a fraud- both timed and cruel.

A knock broke the night's silence and she shut her eyes.

'Miss Hermione?'

She should've known better, she thought as the ache in her chest intensified. How could she deceive herself into thinking she was improving. All she'd been doing was avoiding the facts and hiding like the coward she was.

She couldn't do anything right.

'Miss Hermione your foods is cold. Yous didn't eat.' Another knock. 'Miss Hermione?'

The sound of a tray rattling reached her ears and she squirmed as her belly cramped from hunger. She pulled the covers tighter around her, blinking away tears.

The day had quieted the voices in her head but with the night, they'd returned. Her old life had become a gaping wound, the flow of memories bleeding out.

Mum and Dad. Ron and Harry ... Sirius.

In him she had found the physical embodiment of the war. Of the before and after. The events she knew would play out as well as their consequences. All of which were important and essential but no less regrettable.

She had knowledge and that in itself made her powerful. She could do so much. Save Harry from all the pain, save innocent lives, save Fred, Tonks, Remus, the Potters- Sirius.

Sirius who was an arse and rude and completely unlikable but who had an air of ease about him. Who laughed easily and whose mischievous grin transformed his face ... who was destined to die on the eighteenth of June, nineteen ninety six. At the age of thirty six, after so many years of pain and suffering.

His death had led to open war.

Had Harry not gone after Bellatrix, he wouldn't have encountered Voldemort. Dumbledore wouldn't've had the need to protect Harry, or to distract the dark wizard long enough for Fudge to arrive. Voldemort would have remained in the shadows.

Everything happens for a reason.

_Dangerous things happen to wizards who meddle with time._

Many lives were lost but it all turned out for the best, in the end.

_With any luck, more than one life will be saved tonight._

Things had to go as planned.

_You'll fix this ... she will._

She couldn't get involved- she couldn't. _You can't._

_You will have become no better than the Unspeakable who sent you here._

Nothing would change. Not by her hand. And not willingly.

_Things already have,_ her mind whispered back. Its voice cold and seductive, unforgiving. _Sirius._

Sirius with his mischievous grin and easy laugh who should've been out fighting and growing bitter from war- enough to begin doubting his friends. Instead he was here, protecting her as she hid from and denied the truth.

'Things changed,' she whispered and felt the full force of her words.

Hermione pulled the covers over her head, breathing heavily as her chest burned. There was a sour taste in her mouth and her gut clenched. She swallowed thickly, sniffling, body shaking.

There it was: The truth, spoken out loud and acknowledged.

She shut her eyes as the magnitude of her confession overwhelmed her. A dry sob escaped her parted lips and she clamped them shut.

How much damage had her wilful ignorance caused? How much damage had _she_ caused?

All this time, she had the power to fix things and instead she hid. Hid when others fought. Cried as others pushed aside their pain and confusion to do what was right.

_Harry. Snape. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Dobby. Mad-Eye. Sirius. Lily and James Potter. R.A.B._

Her mind drifted to the mokeskin pouch.

She had the power to change things for the better. She could. _You shouldn't._

Time was far too intricate and delicate. One wrong move and Voldemort could win the war. In trying to help, she could ruin everything.

Sweat ran down her face and she swiped it away as she breathed in suffocating air.

Outside the village families were being slaughtered. Lives ruined. And all because of blood. The very blood that ran in her veins. The same blood that had brought her here.

_Everything happens for a reason._

Was that true? Was she meant to be here?

_No._ 'No,' whispered Hermione.

She was meant to be home. With Ron and Harry as they searched for her Mum and Dad, not here. Never here.

She wanted the nightmare to end.

There'd been a moment in her dream where a Muggleborn witch had reached out to her. Hermione had attempted to help her up but her hands were weak- her strength had completely failed her. Rather than try again, she had turned and walked away.

The young witch blinked as a muffled knock reached her ears.

'Hermione? Open the door.'

The pain in her chest flared.

Another knock.

Hermione bit her lip as she breathed in heavily.

A click of a door and quiet steps. She felt her bed dip as the sheets were pulled away from her. A rush of fresh air filled her lungs and cooled her skin as moonlight greeted her.

'Bring them down love,' Batty said softly, her face hidden by shadows.

She frowned, her eyes seeking the older witch through the limited light.

'Bring them down,' she repeated firmly, quietly.

Confused, she looked away from the older woman, only to realise what she'd meant.

Hermione closed her eyes, willing her magic to settle. Around them, dull sounds rang out as levitating objects returned to their places and grew still.

She felt Batty run her hands through her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Her chest tightened as she took in gasping breaths. Her chest heaving with suppressed emotion as her eyes stung and watered.

'It's okay love,' murmured Batty, small fingers brushing back her fringe. 'You can let go now.'

A sob escaped her and Hermione slammed her eyes shut as the tears she'd kept at bay began to fall.


	13. Progress

Thanks for the beta work Dave. Your unyielding support means everything.

* * *

**Silver**

Progress

* * *

Hermione woke up with scratchy eyes and a sore head.

The previous night fresh in her mind, shame and embarrassment mixed together to form a potent amount of humiliation. There was comfort in that only Batty had seen her meltdown. Even then, she felt ridiculous.

The bushy haired witch had assumed those dreadful nights were over and done with, but last night had proven to be a wake-up call. She kept telling herself that it would be okay, that the older witch would understand and help her as she usually did- but she doubted it this time.

Batty had begun to watch the news again. She read the newspapers and listened to the Wizarding News Network - there was no way in hell she would let Hermione's little episode go without notice. The older woman would be determined to have her acknowledge it and the thought scared her.

Never mind that the previous night had forced her to realise she couldn't run anymore, Hermione just didn't want to deal with it. Not yet- not when last night was so raw. It was a Friday, the last day of her work week. She figured she'd go to work and have all day to come to terms with the fact that Batty would confront her.

It was a logical and soothing plan. So, she'd woken up earlier than usual and prepared for the day. After fifteen minutes, she made her way downstairs.

To her surprise, Batty and Hooky were already sat on the kitchen table drinking tea.

The powerful witch looked at her over the rim of her mug. 'I'm insulted you thought it'd be this easy. Bit disappointed as well- I'd expected better from you. A more thorough plan at least. Don't worry dear, the disappointment is solely my fault as I often forget how difficult the act of thinking must be for other people.' She shook her head sadly before pushing out a chair with her foot. 'Sit down love. The rat made us tea.'

Batty exaggerated raising her cup to her lips but before she could take a sip it vanished. The woman let out a startled gasp before glaring at Hooky, who raised a sardonic eyebrow before taking a bite of his chocolate biscuit.

'You are by far _the worst_ morning person I have ever met,' she said as Hooky yawned. 'Sit.'

Hermione turned back to the witch and found herself the focus of pale, green eyes. She licked her lips and took careful steps towards the front door in a final attempt at escape. Batty, of course, saw her and laughed.

_'Please?'_ mocked the white haired witch, her soft voice shaking with laughter.

Hermione blinked at the feminine timber of the other woman's voice and her tinkling laugh. She'd often wondered how such a sweet looking woman- who looked like the typical grandma, could be such a vulgar and evil piece of crap. _It's the perfect disguise,_ Batty had once stated.

She swallowed thickly. 'I want to leave please.'

'Sit down.'

The brunette's eyes turned pleading. 'I've got to go Batty, I have a lot of brewing today.'

'You're not leaving here until I've had my say.'

And that's why she wanted to leave. Her gut clenched at the inevitable confrontation she'd known was coming but still didn't want. The young witch licked her lips.

'I don't want to do this right now Batty. I can't. Let's- we'll do it after work. Please. For now, just leave it.'

'No.'

'Why not?' she asked, clenching her fists as her heartbeat began to pound in her ears.

'Because the world doesn't give a shit about your little problems. It will keep turning. So you running from what is going to come will do you no good. So grab hold of whatever balls you have, sit the fuck down _and face it.'_

She didn't move. Not from reluctance, but out of fear. She was rooted to the spot.

_Not right now please- later. Later. Later._

'Batty...'

The older witch shook her head, staring her dead in the eyes. 'You're not allowed to run away Hermione. Not anymore.'

_Like hell._

Hermione shook her head, her anger building. 'We'll talk about this later. I have things to do at the shop.'

The brunette turned to leave.

'Hooky!'

A snap of fingers and the kitchen door slammed shut, an opaque shimmer encasing it. Hermione turned to glare at the small elf, who shrunk before her eyes.

'Stop looking at him like that before I get mad.'

She looked away from Hooky to the witch sat beside him. 'Let me out.'

'What was that last night?'

'Let me out Hooky.'

Eyes still trained on her, Batty tilted her head towards the elf. 'Leave the ward and go to your room. I'll call when you're needed.'

Another snap and he was gone. Hermione shut her eyes as her body flushed hot.

'What happened yesterday?'

She shook her head.

'Did something happen?'

Hermione licked her lips.

'Was it Sirius?'

She squeezed her clenched fists. 'Please Batty. I want to go.'

_'No._ You want to run away- there's a difference.'

Her eyes shot open, piercing the older witch. All her humiliation morphing into anger and frustration at her words. Batty's sentiment echoing hers from last night: _you're a coward._

'Shut up,' she hissed, glaring.

The witch laughed. 'Should I be scared now?'

Hermione looked away, her eyes drifting over to the window as her heart pounded against her chest. It was well after eight A.M. Sirius' shift had just begun. She shook her head, licking her dry lips.

Batty wouldn't stop. They both knew it and she wasn't going to get her way. Not now.

'It wasn't Sirius.'

The sitting woman nodded, light green eyes focused on her. Waiting for answers.

_What happened yesterday?_

She didn't know. Hermione shifted from one foot to another. She'd been fine and then she wasn't. Her mind had turned against her, whispering things she hadn't wanted to hear and she'd been unable to stop them.

'I had a nightmare,' she muttered. Her voice quiet to her own ears. 'I dreamt about Diagon Alley and - and I couldn't shake off the dream.'

Batty nodded. 'What happened in it?'

Hermione swallowed thickly and looked at the witch. Her vision blurred as the Muggleborn woman's words came to her mind.

'It was destroyed,' she answered quietly. 'Muggleborns littered the street. Their robes tattered, filthy, bloody- some were injured. Most cried, a few begged for help while others ... A witch reached out to me. She begged me to help her up and I tried. I tried to pull her up but every time we made contact, my hands turned weak. I gave up. I walked away. Didn't look around me- didn't care. I just ... they were crying out to me and I did nothing to help them.'

The stretch of silence that followed lasted a second and an eternity. Her breaths and heartbeat the only sound in the room.

Batty looked away, making herself a cup of tea as she spoke. 'And your dream bothered you. Why?'

The brunette blinked away tears, the pressure in her chest making it hard to breathe.

'I don't know,' she whispered.

Batty slammed down her cup. Her voice snapped like a whip. 'Liar!'

Hermione's eyes shot up. Fresh tears falling down her face. She wiped them away. Ashamed and disgusted by the weakness they represented.

'I _don't. Know,'_ she hissed, her fists shaking, the quiver in her voice betraying her.

Batty sniffed, shaking her head. Disgust pouring out her in waves. The younger witch looked away. She didn't want to see the older woman's disappointment and accusatory eyes.

Her mind raced. She knew why it had bothered her and last night's event sprung to the forefront of her mind. Impossible thoughts battled with reason. The words she now knew to be true, but couldn't admit out loud burned beneath her breast.

'Stop fucking lying Hermione. You know damn well why that fucking dream bothered you!'

She bit her bottom lip, shaking her head as more tears fell. 'No. I-I don't-'

'-You do Hermione. You know _exactly_ why.'

She did.

'Admit it.'

She couldn't. Saying the words out loud would force her to acknowledge her dangerous thoughts.

The room spun and the Muggleborn's voice grew louder in her head as Batty stared her down.

'Please stop.'

'Why did the dream bother you?'

_Please ... help me ..._

'I don't know!'

'Yes you do Hermione. Why?'

She bit her lip, head shaking.

'Stop running and fucking say it!'

_Don't._

'Please,' she gasped, heavy tears blurring her vision. 'Don't.'

_Please ... help me ..._

'Say it.'

_No._

'Fucking admit it Hermi-'

Her voice cracked as the words were ripped from her throat. 'BECAUSE I DID NOTHING! People were dying around me and I didn't do a damn thing! _I DIDN'T CARE!_ After _everything ..._ I didn't care.'

Her knees grew weak as the deep ache she'd carried all day yesterday returned. Hermione gasped for breath as her body trembled. 'People a-re suffering ... And I'm hi-ding.' _Like a coward._

A hum vibrated around her, reaching deep into her bones and she shivered from the force of it. Kitchen items rattled around them as the curtain fluttered. Hermione swallowed thickly as she took the three steps towards the table. She shut her eyes as she struggled to calm down.

It took her longer than usual, but eventually her magic settled. When it did, Batty raised her wand and a bottle flew out of the freezer along with two shot glasses.

The witch poured them each a shot of amber liquid, swirling smoke escaping the fluid as it bubbled. It was too early for a drink but that didn't stop her from downing it. She cringed at the burn and shuddered at the taste. Firewhisky was disgusting. She took another shot.

'So what are you going to do about it?'

Hermione shut her eyes and bowed her head.

'Nothing.' Because that was the right thing to do. She would do nothing.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tiny witch nod. 'Good.'

She looked to the woman at her side, frowning. 'What?'

'I said, good. Honestly Hermione, just the idea of it is ridiculous. Imagine you, joining the war. You, who flinches at loud noises, fighting in battle. You wouldn't last two seconds.'

Hermione frowned. In her defence, she was from the future with knowledge on Voldemort. Paranoia was second nature at this point. So yes, she flinched but only because she refused to let her entire guard down. It was a hard learned lesson, one she had paid most dearly for. If she'd been more cautious, none of this would have happened.

Either way, Batty hadn't met her before so to assume that Hermione had always jumped at loud noises was idiotic.

'That's not true,' she defended herself.

Batty smirked at her, her eyes running down her face. 'Oh? How would you have survived then?'

The brunette blinked at the older witch, not appreciating her mocking tone. 'That's not fair.'

She had an arsenal of spells at her command. She worked best under pressure. She knew how to duel. Really, the only problem she had was -

'You don't have your magic-'

Batty's tea cup shattered, spilling the milky liquid all over the table. The older woman arched an eyebrow, a slow smile pulling at her lips.

'Under control at least.'

The younger witch felt her face burn. Heat raced up her spine as her body flushed hot and cold. Brown eyes bore into the tiny witch as she vanished the liquid and repaired the cup. She wiped away her tears, angry at the older woman's insinuation.

'I'm not useless Batty,' said Hermione through a clenched jaw.

'Never said you were. I'm just pointing out the obvious. You have very little control of your magic Hermione. In a battle, you would die.'

Fifth year came to mind. Sixth year. That whole year that led to and, the final battle. Adrenaline pounding in her blood and pushing her forward, steadying her as she raised her wand. _Trolls, Dementors, werewolves, Death Eaters, Bellatrix, Voldemort, dragons, Umbridge, The Woman._ Her life had been an endless battle the second she set foot in Hogwarts. She'd survived war once. Torture. _This._

Batty was wrong.

'I may not have my magic,' she spat. 'But I'm not weak!'

Batty sniffed. 'Shit's different since the last time you were out there Hermione. It isn't the world you once knew.'

She laughed but there was no humour in it.

Hermione didn't need it spelled out for her. There was absolutely nothing Batty could say that she didn't already know. The world wasn't what she remembered. It wasn't even hers.

'You think I don't know that?'

'How can you when you're fucking hiding?!'

The kettle on the table began to whistle and the older witch gave her a pointed look. Hermione swiped her hand and the noise stopped. She stood and moved across the small kitchen, shaking. Batty's nearness was grating. Back to the sink, she faced the larger than life woman.

'What do you want from me Batty?'

'Why did your dream bother you?'

The younger woman clenched her jaw, frustration and anger coursing through her.

'I already told you.'

Batty shook her head as she stood, the effect unimpressive considering her height. 'Not yet. You've only reached the surface doll. Why did it bother you?'

_Please ... help me ..._

Dishes and cups rattled around them. She could hear the cutlery from within its drawer. The kettle boiled as her fringe whipped around her face.

'I already told you! Because I did nothing!'

'And why does that bother you?'

The noises around her were growing louder and she couldn't think.

A pulse of magic rippled across the room and everything quieted.

'BECAUSE I WANTED TO HELP HER! _Okay?_ Is that what you want to hear? That I wanted to help her but I didn't. That I ran and that I hate it because it's what I'm doing now?! That I'm tired of hiding and that I don't want to do it anymore?! That I want to fight and join the damn war?!'

Chest heaving, clenched fists at her side, she glared at Batty whose smile brightened up her face. The shorter woman arched an eyebrow and Hermione blinked at the smug gleam in her green eyes.

Hermione sucked in a breath as her voice and words repeated in her head. Her heart hammered in her chest, the room spun and she felt lightheaded.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to join the war.

The brunette met Batty's eyes. She blinked and licked her lips. 'I want to fight.'

As she said the words she realised the truth of them and a heavy weight she hadn't been aware of, left her. Her shoulders relaxed and she took in a steadying breath.

A numbness settled over her and suddenly, she didn't feel scared anymore.

She took her previous seat as Batty refilled her shot glass.

'Alright,' said Batty after she drank it. 'Now that we've established that you're up for a scrap, what you gonna do about it?'

What _was_ she gonna do about it?

_Horcrux,_ her mind whispered and the young witch bit her bottom lip.

_The diary, the ring, the locket, the diadem, the cup, Nagini, Harry._

Riddle's diary ... she had no idea where it was. Hermione knew the Malfoy's had been entrusted with it- but when would that happen? Had it happened already? If so, how was she going to get it out? Was Malfoy Manor Voldemort's headquarters again?

_Tell the trut-_ she swallowed thickly. A shudder ran through her and she pushed the thought back.

The ring was the least guarded, unfortunately she didn't know where the Gaunts had lived. All she had was a name- Little Hangleton.

The locket ... she had no idea when Regulus died. For all she knew he was dead already, which meant-

'Hermione?'

She blinked and turned to the older witch. 'Sorry?'

'I said, what do you plan on doing?'

_Endangering the future. Altering history. Possibly granting Lord Voldemort his victory._ 'I-I don't know. I hadn't thought about it ...'

'Will you tell Dumbledore?'

Hermione froze and stared wide-eyed at the older witch.

She hadn't thought of that. Would Dumbledore try and stop her? He'd altered history before.

But he'd done it to save two lives. This was on a much larger scale and held catastrophic possibilities if not coordinated properly ... how much would she change? How much would she be able to change? _Could_ she change anything?

Croaker's diary had a whole section dedicated to the topic. Time-travel was a risky thing with outward symptoms. A day could spread out through several days. Night could last an hour.

Unspeakables would know. If they didn't already-

'Hermione?'

She blinked, shaking away her distracting thoughts as her cheeks tinged.

'Do you think he'd let me?'

She didn't need to specify who _he_ was.

'What? Join the fight?' Batty laughed at her nod, her own head shaking. 'Not bloody likely. Albus wouldn't run the risk of letting anything happen to you.'

No, he wouldn't. Dumbledore kept his cards close to his chest and she was the best card he had to play. He wouldn't let her join easily, if at all.

She turned to face Batty. 'What about the Order?'

The older witch shook her head. 'He'll just bring up your brewing and say you're doing more than enough.'

'What are you talking about?' Hermione frowned, searching soft, green eyes. 'What about my brewing?'

'Your potions. They're for the Order,' said Batty, waving an airy hand as if it was nothing. When she continued to stare, the older woman sighed and elaborated. 'My friend Flea and Tony have an agreement. Tony, and now you, brew the potions, Flea buys them in bulk for the Order. Why do you think you brewed so much Blood Replenishing potion? You didn't think it was all for the Jones kid did you?'

She hadn't thought of it. The idea hadn't so much as crossed her mind, she just ... brewed.

On further reflection, she should've been suspicious. Hermione brewed upwards to thirty bottles of it per week, logically it had to go somewhere. That she'd been unknowingly helping the Order made a spark of pride burn in her chest and she felt a bit lighter. Definitely relieved. She hadn't been completely useless.

_Would the cup be in Gringott's already?_

She wracked her brain trying to remember anything about its history. Harry had never mentioned specific dates but it was likely that Bellatrix had already been given it ... at least she already knew how to break into th-

'-Hermione!'

She blinked and felt her cheeks burn as her vision cleared and the older woman's face came into focus.

'I know I'm shaggable but I'm not interested, so stop staring at me.'

Her mouth snapped shut and Hermione looked down at her cup, red-faced.

'Whatever is running through your bloody mind, stop it. You just finally admitted you want to help, stop getting ahead of yourself. You'll only work yourself up and besides, you have more than enough time to help. Fuck knows this war isn't ending any time soon.'

Batty was right. But she was also wrong. She didn't have time to sit and wait anymore. She had to make a decision and she had to make it soon.

Was she going to fight? She wanted to. The more she said it to herself the more she knew it in her bones that it was the right thing to do. She could do it. She could.

Was she going to ask Dumbledore for his … his what? Permission? Blessing? Help?

How would he react?

Would he try and stop her?

A big part of her felt that he would but that part of him who told her three turns would do it, doubted it.

Something clicked in her head then: How had he known three turns would've done it?

What else had been kept off record? What had he and Croaker done?

She bit her bottom lip, frowning. There wasn't a point in thinking about this but she couldn't help it. The manipulation she had unknowingly been a part of was too bitter a subject she couldn't stomach it. Because of the scheming wizards and The Woman she was stuck here. Hermione had every right to question their actions. Getting answers was a different thing though and all she was doing was torturing herself.

'Hermione!'

She jumped in her seat and her head shot up, eyes wide and aimed at Batty.

'Stop it!' hissed the magical historian as she glared daggers at her.

Hermione bit her lower lip again, the sharp pain not unpleasant. Batty served herself another shot and drank it with a smack of her lips, light green eyes studying her face with a furrowed brow.

The brunette scowled as Batty refilled the shot glass before her. She didn't drink it though.

'Do you know who my great-nephew is?' asked Batty and Hermione's eyes grew wide as she turned to face the white haired woman. Batty snorted. 'Of course you fucking do.'

The older woman reached for the full shot glass and knocked it back. 'Today's youth know his name, but not the fact that I'm his great-aunt. I'm one of the best in my field and magical historians across the globe kiss my arse on a daily basis. Respect Hermione, is a weird thing. I'll get requests for interviews with the promise to not mention my family's disgrace. I actually had a woman say that to me once. Hinted at it, as if Gellie was my own personal shame.' She shook her head. 'Anyway, that's not the point. Fact is, no one mentions me by name when writing about him. At first they did, it was a fiasco but as soon as he faded into the pages of history, he and my name were rarely written in print together again. But before Albus kicked his arse, newspapers all over the world speculated over him and his fall from grace. While all good and entertaining, the truth was that Gellie had been a troubled child from the word go. My sister had once mentioned that her grandson had been found with a dead cat- that's all she'd said. A dead cat. Didn't say how he'd been found or how it'd died but the quiver in her voice had sent a chill down my spine- he'd been nine. As he got older, the stories got shorter, her voice grew worried and her eyes turned scared. She'd mentioned institutionalising him as a last resort once but no one really wanted that- he was so bright everyone had hoped that he was going through some kind of phase. Just needed to get away from bad influences was all ... against my better judgement, I allowed him stay here for a bit. Within the week he met Albus and they became fast friends...' Batty gave her a pointed look and shook her head after a few seconds. 'Nothing? No shock at the fact that the two were mates...?'

Hermione shrugged. She'd been shocked at first but obviously not now, not anymore.

'Anyway, their friendship only seemed natural. Two clearly talented wizards making each other's acquaintance was nothing out of the ordinary right? Except, that I knew Gellie wasn't right. And I'd known Albus was angry- after that thing with his dad, you could see the bitterness in him. Once I'd overheard them talking about the inferiority of Muggles and how the world would be better if only the wizarding world took its rightful place in the hierarchy of mankind. All bollocks of course. It was even a bit amusing considering they were a pair of scrawny kids, but I swear that a shiver ran through me. I didn't sleep that night and I remember writing a letter to my sister the next morning, telling her that I couldn't keep him anymore. The envelope was literally in my hand when they'd walked in and began to chat, asking about legendary duels. By the end of the night, I'd decided against turning him away. Within two weeks of his arrival, I'd known that it had been the wrong choice but I didn't want to be the reason such a brilliant and talented mind was put away. Every day my worry grew and only after Ariana died, that I realised my grave mistake. After a few years, Albus admitted that that conversation I'd overheard had been the first. You can't imagine my guilt Hermione. I'd ignored my instinct and people had lost their lives because of it. If I'd spoken up, Gellie may not have become what he is.'

Hermione shook her head. 'That's ridiculous, his decisions aren't yours to regret. You said it yourself, he was wrong. His choices weren't your fault.'

'I know that, but I'd settled when everything in me told me to send him away. I was his last chance Hermione. He'd been warned, straighten up or you'll be sent to an asylum for the rest of your life. If I'd spoken up, a lot would've changed. I didn't and I've had to live with my decision since and that's my point Hermione: Trust your own judgment and instinct. Rather than overthinking and allowing your brain to get away from you, stop and think. _Really_ think about your decision because at the end of the day, you'll have to look in the mirror and live with whatever consequences come your way.'

Her thoughts quieted and the two witches sat without another word said. Behind them, the clock struck the hour and she stood on shaky feet.

'Can you tell Hooky to bring down the ward please? I have to go. I'm already late.'

Batty looked up at her as she corked the bottle. She shook her head and white hair sparkled in the light. 'Take the day off, you've earned it.'

'I can't,' said Hermione. 'If the potions are for the Order then I can't afford to take a day off. Besides, it's the least I could do.'

'If you say so. Hooky!' The wards fell and Batty nodded at the door as it creaked open. 'Think on what I said Hermione. Now, fuck off.'

* * *

Grey eyes followed the witch with suspicion as she shifted from one foot to another. Nerves on edge, he studied Granger's face.

He blinked, certain he'd heard wrong.

Sirius shut his eyes, trying to wrap his head around what she'd just said. He looked up at her and shook his head, disbelief pouring out of him as the witch stared him down.

'Repeat that?' he ordered.

She didn't say anything and again he wondered if he'd heard wrong.

Bloody woman was doing his head in.

First, she loses her fucking mind and acts like the whole sodding world didn't exist. Then today, she started whispering to herself while giving him weird looks. A few times she'd even turned to him all open mouth and wide eyed only to shut her fucking mouth and turn away seconds later.

He'd lost his temper after the third time she'd done this and snapped at her. She'd stopped but those fucking looks she'd been giving him hadn't stopped.

An answering glare usually met her when she did and still, no matter how much he'd complained about it, the fucking witch had continued to mutter to herself.

All fucking day she'd cut and brewed and whispered that the Marauder had welcomed the end of her shift just so he could be rid of her. Bottling the last of her potions and cleaning her station, Sirius had breathed a sigh of relief.

He'd stood and turned the radio off. She'd faced him and spoken. He'd froze and raised his eyebrows at her as his jaw fell open.

The petite witch had responded by pushing back her shoulders and raising her chin as he began to glare. The stubborn gleam in her eyes made him itch and set him further on edge because he suddenly realised that yes, he'd heard her right the first time.

'I want to join the Order.'

He bit back the initial reaction to swear at her and ask her if she was fucking stupid. Because he already knew the answer. Yes, she bloody was.

Sirius took a step towards her trying to gather his thoughts as that fucking spark in her eyes burned brighter.

It was official: Hermione Granger was the most infuriating cow he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Chest heaving, Sirius struggled to reign in his temper. Where it'd come from and why it was there he didn't know. But for whatever reason, one that he didn't understand, the idea of her joining the Order pissed him off immensely.

He took a handful of steps and found himself within reach of her, her stool between them. Granger swallowed thickly but didn't move. Head tilted up, she continued to glare at him with that infuriating twinkle of hers. She crossed her arms over her chest and he snapped.

'Are you fucking mad?' spat Sirius, clenched fists at his side.

She didn't answer him but he saw doubt cloud her eyes. He shook his head disgusted by her idiotic comment. Disgusted by _her._

Fucking bird had no idea what the hell she was saying. If she'd really known what was out there she'd be grateful for the safety and keep her ungrateful fucking mouth shut.

'I want to help,' she said through her teeth and his gut clenched.

_We want to help Professor._

_You're all too young._

_We're of age and out of school. We want to fight._

They'd been too young and they hadn't known better.

'Do you know what's out there Granger? Do you even fucking read the Prophet?'

She didn't reply. No then.

He sneered at her, furious with her stupidity and jealous of her ignorance. 'Stick to your brewing Granger and be grateful it's all you do.'

He turned to walk away, needing space away from her and a fag. Before he reached the door, it slammed shut. Sirius stopped and looked back around at the witch before pulling out his wand.

He aimed it at the door and grit his teeth when it didn't open.

'Open the fucking door.'

'No.'

Sirius faced her and his chest burned with the determination he saw in her. She didn't know what the fuck she was asking for.

The Marauder nodded and summoned his stool. He set it before him and crossed his legs at the heel, his arms across his chest.

Being with Granger this long he knew one definite thing about her, she responded to reason better than yelling and orders. He had years of experience in making people feel stupid and ridiculous when they started being idiots. This would be a piece of piss. He'd never thought he'd have to use that skill on her though. He'd thought she was clever. Clearly, he'd been wrong, the bitch was stupid as hell. For some reason, that disappointed him.

'Why?'

His one word question echoed across the room.

Granger licked her lips, his eyes following her tongue's movement before moving up to her eyes. The witch took a deep breath before sitting.

'Because I need to fight.'

'Why?'

She glared again and he smirked at her. The witch looked away from him, dark eyes running the length of the cellar. He stared down at his boots as he uncrossed his legs.

'Because I can't sit here doing nothing while people are dying.'

His breath caught in his throat and he looked up at her through his fringe.

_We can't sit around while people die Professor._

_You are too young to know what you're asking for._

'You don't know what the fuck you're saying Granger.'

'Even if I don't,' she said slowly, her voice shaking with suppressed anger. 'Why do you care? It's _my_ decision.'

'The problem with your brilliant logic Granger is that your decision won't just affect _you.'_

'I know that!'

'Really?' he spat. 'Could've fooled me.'

The witch shut her eyes, breathing heavily and he bit his tongue in an attempt to reign in his temper. When she spoke, her voice held a tone of forced calm.

'I know the danger-'

'No.'

'What?'

'I said _no._ You're not joining shit.'

The witch bristled. 'Who the hell are you to decide that?!'

_You can't decide for us professor. It's not your choice to make._

'Do you have _any_ fucking idea what's out there?' he asked her, pointing at the window. 'People are fucking dying and the last thing the Order needs is another liability, which is all you'll fucking be!'

He shook his head, furious at her flippant attitude, an image of Benjy in his mind. 'Stick to your brewing Granger.'

'I want to fight,' she said again. 'It's my decision and you have no say in it.'

'There's innocent lives at stake! You want to join the fucking Order Granger? How can you? You don't even have magic!'

Bottles around him shook and rattled. Grey eyes pinned her with a haughty look that he'd perfected as a kid. Granger shut her eyes and within seconds everything stopped.

He arched an eyebrow when she met his eyes.

'Congratulations Granger, you're a threat to shaking vials everywhere.'

The brunette clenched her jaw as she glared at him. Sirius blinked as heat ran up his spine.

'I don't need magic to help the Order,' she hissed as he scoffed.

'Really? Then how do you plan to fight? Gonna glare the Death Eaters into submission? Fuck's sake Granger- do you even hear yourse-'

'-Arabella Figg,' she said and his words caught in his throat.

How did she know that name? Arabella Figg was guarding Evans' sister, as well as the entire Muggle neighbourhood around her. Only a handful of people knew that.

_How'd she fucking know that name?_

The long haired Marauder didn't know how it happened but he was suddenly towering over her, his voice low and dangerous as he stared down at scared, brown eyes.

_'Never_ repeat that name out loud again,' he hissed. 'Do you understand me?'

The witch nodded, eyes trained on him she stood and took a step back. Once again, her stool turned into a barrier between them.

He pushed back his fringe with a shaking hand, looking at everything but her.

Damn woman was going to be the end of him, he fucking knew it.

'How long did you read and know about the war before you knew you had to do something?'

Pale eyes shot to her own and he swallowed thickly. When he spoke, his voice was thick.

'I don't know.'

She held his gaze and Sirius' anger ebbed.

'I-,' Granger huffed a laugh void of humour, 'I've been a mess. Y-you know that...'

She looked down at her seat as her cheeks turned a rosy hue, when she looked up again he fought the urge to smile.

Her eyes were bright and that fire he'd known she had was out and in full force.

'I'd stopped caring about everything and I ...' she pursed her lips. 'I can't hide anymore. I don't want to.'

_We can help headmaster._

_You do not understand what you're asking of me._

'You don't understand Granger.'

'Maybe not, but I deserve the chance to try.'

_We deserve a chance._

He turned to leave, pulling out his fags as he did. The door gave way as he reached it.

His mind whirled with thoughts of her request as he smoked. They'd been too young and still wet behind the ears when they'd joined the Order.

The Lupins had been dead set against Remus fighting but he'd shut them up sharpish.

_If I don't join Dumbledore now, I won't have proof that I didn't join Voldemort when he gets brought down. I'm a werewolf. A dark creature. People won't hesitate to say I joined him cos it's in my _nature_._

Mrs. Pettigrew hadn't been pleased either but Pete hadn't cared.

_I'm sorry Mum, but I'm going to help my friends._

_Sorry Dad, but you don't have a say in this. Sirius and I are joining._

They didn't speak as they closed down the shop, he didn't really want to talk to her but something kept repeating itself in his head. He cleared his throat when they reached the bridge.

'Why'd you tell me instead of Moody?'

Granger stopped mid step, curls blowing in the breeze as moving clouds cast her in and out of shadows.

'Because,' she said, turning to face him. 'Moody and the Prewett twins would've said no. Batty ... she wants me to think it through and hold off on making a decision. Batty's owl is wild and only follows her orders. Hooky does too and he's the only way I'm able to contact Dumbledore. I'm pretty sure Batty ordered him not to call the headmaster unless she says so which leaves you. You are literally the only chance I have of my message reaching him.'

'Unless I tell Moody to tell him.'

The brunette shrugged, 'You wouldn't do that.'

'Oh?' he said. He raised his eyebrow at her. 'Why not?'

'Because I've seen you two switch guard through my window a few times. Whenever he gets here, you look like you avoid talking to him. Like you don't get on. So I don't imagine you'd share with him, not when Dumbledore is the one in charge of my care.'

'You think too much.'

The witch nodded.

The wizard pushed back his fringe as he began to walk and abruptly stopped when she said his name. Her voice soft and pleading.

'Sirius ... please...'

He shivered. Around him, the wind had begun to pick up. Rain not too far away.

'I need to try.'

'Fucking hell Granger,' he growled stepping towards her. 'If I fucking do this, I get something in return.'

He was within arm's reach of her, face tilted to meet his, she slowly nodded.

'You ask Dumbledore to move me. I don't know what the fuck is going on or what the hell this is, but I'm done. I don't want any part in it. I give him your message and you ask him to change me for one of the Prewetts. Deal?'

She hesitated but eventually gave him a reluctant nod. Sirius clenched his jaw before he continued their walk. They didn't stop for his sandwich, he wasn't hungry.

He stopped her before she reached for Batty's front door.

'I'll give him your message Granger. For whatever good it'll do. Whatever happens to you after isn't on me. You understand? It won't be my fault.'

The witch nodded, dark eyes wide and bright with fire. Her lips parted, cheeks flushed from excitement and exercise. Grey eyes looked her over. He licked his lips. _It suits her._

Another nod, 'Remember our deal Granger.'

By the time Gideon arrived, his gut was twisted into knots.

The walk from his post to his home took minutes but it felt like no time at all. Suddenly he was there, knocking on Moody's office door waiting for permission to enter. Saying hello to people as they moved determinedly around and out his house.

To his relief, Dumbledore was in there with him. Sirius hadn't been in the mood to deal with an interrogation from the old Auror. He cleared his throat, grey eyes looking over Mad-Eye's shoulder to the powerful wizard sat facing the desk.

'Sir, I need to speak with you.'

At his voice, the headmaster turned with a raised eyebrow and a serene smile. 'Of course Sirius.' He gestured to the empty chair beside him. 'May I offer you a seat in your own home?'

Moody opened the door wider to let him in, the creak of the door had probably been magically enhanced for effect.

Sirius sat and decided against stupid formalities, the sooner he did as promised the sooner he could leave.

He felt shit. His stomach was a mess and he didn't know why.

'It's about Hermione.'

'I see, is she alright?'

Sirius nodded as the room flashed blue and Moody stowed away his wand. He cleared his throat, anxious over what he was going to say. Out of Hogwarts, fighting for the Order and he still felt like a student in front of the man.

He didn't want to do this and he wanted to be anywhere else but here. A deal was a deal though and if it got him out of whatever bullshit this was, it'd be worth it.

_Fuck it. Here goes nothing._

'Sir, she wants to join the Order.'

'No,' growled Moody.

Sirius' eyebrows shot upwards, surprised by the anger in that single word.

'I see,' said Dumbledore and then said nothing else.

The Marauder blinked, unsure if a reply was needed or expected. He had to say something though, the silence was bothering him.

'Yeah...' he added lamely.

'How did she appear to you Sirius?'

He frowned, wondering if it was a trick question. 'Sir?'

'Albus!' barked Mad-Eye.

The headmaster focused on him while raising a hand to silence the Auror.

'I regret that I haven't visited Miss Granger in months. The last time I saw her she was suffering with terrible headaches and her magic was out of control. You see her every day, how would you say she is?'

Sirius licked his lips while inwardly thinking that the question was wildly unfair. He wasn't a Healer or an expert on whatever fucking problems Granger had. He didn't like the question and felt wrong answering but he was willing to lie his arse off if it meant no more Granger watching.

'Her magic isn't as out of control anymore. But when it does act up, she's able to control it again within seconds. She can even cast minor spells with a Potioneer's Wand.'

The headmaster nodded. 'And her emotions? Is she able to control them as well?'

Sirius shifted in his seat, hating the old man's line of questioning. He took his head. 'I don't know sir. She's not like she was at first. She doesn't cry when she goes out anymore. The panic attacks she had at first are now completely gone.' He shrugged. 'I'm no expert but she seems a lot better.'

'Forgive my questions Sirius. I know it was inappropriate of me to put you in that position but I needed to see if your account matched Batty's. It does.'

Sirius nodded, eyes downcast and focused on his boots. Mrs Potter's voice shouting at him as alarm bells began firing off in his head.

_Never look Albus Dumbledore in the eyes._

'Do you think Miss Granger has the potential to act recklessly Sirius?'

He didn't answer right away because he knew she did. The Marauder measured his words knowing damn well that his apprehension has shown and that his silence had answered for him.

'Everyone has the potential to act a bit reckless sir.'

From the corner of his eye he saw Dumbledore nod. 'Truer words have never been spoken.'

He could feel Mad-Eye burning a hole in him. He kept his eyes on his boots. He really needed a fucking a smoke. And a pint. And a shag.

Sod it. He was heading out the second he left here.

'Would you trust her with your life Sirius? Or those of your friends'? Miss McKinnon's?'

He didn't have to think about it. He already knew the answer and if he lied Dumbledore would know. Probably already did, he thought bitterly and so he had no choice but to answer truthfully.

'No.'

Another nod from the powerful wizard as Moody continued to stare at him. Nobody spoke and the back of his neck prickled. The dog animagus braced himself for whatever was coming.

'Do you speak with Hermione often Sirius?'

_Shit._ His discomfort must've shown because Dumbledore elaborated.

'Whenever Batty is inclined to report, your interactions are gleefully mentioned. I cannot blame you for the contact Sirius. You two are alone most of the day and in such close proximity, it is only natural that human interaction is sorely missed and sought out wherever possible. I confess, it was cause for alarm at first but once Batty informed me of your ability to infuriate Miss Granger, all my concerns faded down to mild amusement.'

He fucking hated the old bat.

'We don't talk so much as argue. She's ... unpleasant.'

The headmaster chuckled at that. 'Batty has a very strong influence.'

Sirius nodded but didn't really think Batty had much to do with it. He had the very real sense that Granger was a bitch all on her own. A cunning one at that. The Marauder bit his lip. He was fucking sure she'd called him Snuffles.

'When you see her tomorrow, tell her that the Order will be honoured to have her assistance.'

'-Albus!' growled Moody. 'What the fuck are you doing?!'

'Alastor, please. Inform her that I will call upon her tomorrow night, at eleven, so that we may discuss her involvement. As such, your role too must change Sirius.'

The warning bells in his head morphed and became a violent alarm.

'I'm sorry my boy, but I will require you to act well beyond the call of duty and gain her trust.'

Sirius licked his lips as he swallowed thickly. This didn't feel right. 'I don't understand.'

'Become her friend.'

_You fucking bastard._ 'Sir?'

'Talk to her and gain her trust. Make sure she doesn't grow restless and act foolishly. If at any point you doubt her ability to stay within the boundaries agreed upon, then you are to inform me immediately.'

_What the hell are you playing at old man?_

He couldn't do what he was being asked to do. Granger was a pain in the arse and he didn't like her but she didn't fucking deserve to be spied on and monitored. She wasn't a bloody threat to anyone and whatever her case may be, he doubted it justified treating her like a fucking Death Eater.

The words were out of his mouth before it even registered that he'd said them.

'I'm not comfortable with that.'

'And I'm not comfortable with asking this of you. But it is necessary. I know this must be frustrating for you. We don't answer your questions, nor do we supply you with any information. We simply dropped you in the middle of Godric's Hollow and asked you to watch over a girl. I can't begin to comprehend your confusion but I hope that our acquaintance has made me worthy of your trust. I must ask that you believe me this once when I say that all of this, in regards to Miss Granger, is very important.'

Sirius left the pair feeling used.

He'd reluctantly agreed to the headmaster's request. Having spoken to Dumbledore, he understood that him leaving Granger had never been an option though. This was his role in the war now. First as a guardian for Hermione and now he was a spy. Tricking her with friendship. He shook his head with self-disgust and frustration.

The Marauder knocked back his drink, quickly asking the bloke behind the bar for another.

It wasn't right. He knew it. Felt it in his fucking bones and yet, he was going to follow through because the part of him who knew this shit was suspicious as fuck also understood that whatever the hell this was, was necessary.

He didn't understand the guilt though.

Grey eyes scanned the pub through the bar's mirror. The Rooster in the Mule was busy tonight. Around him gay men flirted shamelessly as the splattering of straight people eyed each other across the room.

He lit a fag and inhaled after swallowing the amber liquid with none of the respect due a good whisky.

Sirius frowned at his empty glass, unconsciously bouncing his leg.

After he'd left Moody's office and before he'd been able to ward the room, the dog animagus had heard them talk about Granger. It wasn't much but the implica-

'Got a light?'

He turned to the girl now sat beside him. Spotty, about his age, a fake blonde with dark roots, blue eyeshadow and thin, pink lips. She had disco written all over. He didn't know where she'd come from and quite frankly he didn't care.

Sirius lit her cigarette. 'I'm James.'

'Victoria.'

He smiled at her when a blush appeared high on her cheeks.

'I've never seen you here before,' he said, inching his head a bit closer to hers. 'You're not from around here are you?'

The fake blonde shook her head, speaking loudly over the noise. 'I'm originally from Manchester, just here visiting some family.'

'Lovely place, Manchester. Drove through it after my grandad died.'

The girl looked stricken and quickly made to apologise but he quieted any oncoming pity with a wave of his hand. 'It's alright. Don't feel bad. He was an arsehole whose only good trait was his fortune.'

She became friendlier after that and Sirius played along to her game with short answers and half-hearted enthusiasm. His thoughts refusing to stray farther than Moody's office.

'I have a hotel room down the street, wanna head out?'

Sirius blinked and nodded at the woman with a smile that did not reach his eyes. She left to say something to her friends and her absence barely registered.

_It's too dangerous to let her join Albus! She's too dangerous!_

_You're right, which is why we must-_

That's all he'd heard. The silencing spell had kicked in and not even his animagus hearing could penetrate that magic.

Sirius necked his pint.

The whole thing stank but that's not what had him anxious. It was the in between the lines shit that had unnerved him the most.

It was the implication that Hermione Granger scared Alastor Moody.


	14. Lies

Thanks to the fantastic and wonderful David, without whom this fic isn't possible, for he is the backbone of this great tale which you all enjoy. Truly he is the shit. Glory be unto him on this date.

* * *

**Silver**

Lies

* * *

Sirius gripped his wand tightly as he sped through Godric's Hollow.

Panting breaths and chest burning with a stitch, he didn't stop running. The small village a blur as his steps pounded against the cobblestone breaking the morning silence.

Heart racing, he turned the corner in time to see the shop's wards shimmer a violent orange.

The Marauder stopped and leant against the wall. Hand clutching at his side as he caught his breath. Sirius watched with growing amusement as Gideon tried and failed to bring down the wards. He smirked.

The bastard was powerful and skilled, he'd grudgingly admit, but there was no way in hell he was going to bring down Black wards. He hated his family and everything it represented but Sirius couldn't deny the skill of their inherited magic.

The Blacks were a powerful lot and those wards weren't coming down unless he allowed it.

Sirius continued to gasp for breath, huffing a laugh as the orange idiot tried a different spell and the wards rippled a vibrant yellow.

The Marauder started walking towards the pair, his footsteps heavy. Eyebrow arched in amusement as Granger tried explaining his wand movements to the orangutan.

'It's like a sharp jab with a downward flick and then he twirls it in a tight circle, really fast.'

Grey eyes flickered over the witch who was trying to gesture with her hand and finger. He smiled wider. Granger was doing a good job of describing his wand movements, but no matter how much she explained there was no way to dismantle the spellwork. The only countercharm was a secret only him and his dad - and Reggie now too he supposed - knew. A pang of something shot through his chest.

'And you're sure you've never heard him utter a word?'

Granger shook her head. 'He usually casts nonverbally.'

'He can't always cast nonverbally,' said the stocky wizard and Sirius smirked at his bitter tone.

'Jealousy suits you mate.'

Gideon became a blur as he turned to face him, wand aimed at his chest.

The Marauder smirked, his gait slow and steady as he pulled out his own wand and simply because he could, cast his Patronus with a silent incantation.

Padfoot's ghostly duplicate bounded out of his wand and turned to face him, tail wagging.

Sirius smirked at Gideon as the bloke's left eye twitched.

'Don't be embarrassed mate, some of us are just better.'

A giggle broke out and the two wizards turned to the witch, whose red face was hidden behind her hand. They followed her gaze and his lips curled with amusement at the sight of Padfoot happily licking himself.

He shrugged, looking back to the still giggling Granger and a disgusted Gideon. 'Self-love is important.'

Sirius smiled at Granger as she moved inside the shop, her tinkling laughter surprisingly pleasant.

'You're late,' spat the red nuisance. 'I'll be sure to tell Albus how useless you are.'

Grey eyes settled on the shorter wizard. A smirk on his lips as he glared down the prick.

'Go ahead,' he said as he passed him, bumping into his shoulder as he did.

Sirius grimaced and stopped as a firm grip met his bicep, his scar still sensitive to the touch. He sneered down at him, using his height to intimidate the shorter man.

'Let go of me.'

'This isn't a game Black!'

Hard eyes moved to the pale hand grabbing him. 'Get your hands off me you piece of shit.'

Gideon squeezed harder and he bit back a hiss, determined not to show the ginger tosser any weakness.

'Where the fuck were you?'

'That's none of your business-,'

'-It fucking is when Hermione's involved.'

Sirius pulled his arm away. 'Piss off Prewett, I'm not in the mood for your bitching.'

Blue eyes ran the length of him, a sneer on the ginger's face. 'You're a fucking joke. Look at you, still wearing the same damn clothes from last night. Lipstick all over your face, your neck marked up. Smelling like a fucking brewery, you irresponsible, fucking child. You're done Black. As soon as I tell Dumbledore about this, you're gone.'

He would've laughed if his words hadn't caused a sour taste to fill his mouth. He grimaced.

Nothing the idiot said would make a difference. The headmaster had Sirius bent over with his hands around his ankles and he knew it.

He smirked. 'What bothers you more? That I'm a better wizard than you or that Dumbledore knows it?'

Blue eyes flashed and the Marauder chuckled. 'Or is it that he trusts me?'

'You don't belong in the fucking Order and everybody knows it,' growled Gideon. 'We're all waiting for you to slip and when you fucking do, the second Dumbledore names you traitor I'll hunt you down like the fucking dog you are.'

'That'll never happen-'

'-You're a Black, it's only a matter of time.'

'You'd love that wouldn't you? You son of a bitch,' hissed Sirius with barely contained anger.

Red sparks flew out of Gideon's wand. 'Nothing about you is good or worth dying for Black. Because of you, good people will die.'

A stab of pain hit him in the chest and his vision blurred as images of James, Remus and Pete flashed through his mind. The Potters. _Reggie_.

Sirius shoved him away, aiming his wand under the twat's chin.

'Give me a fucking reason,' spat Sirius, his wand steady and blazing eyes trained on the shorter wizard's.

Gideon didn't back down, not that he'd expected him to.

'You're no better than your bitch cousin and that Death Eater brother of yours.'

Sirius saw red and his arm swung before he found himself on his back, pinned to the ground by the stocky wizard. He struggled beneath him, swearing furiously and hitting any bit of the other man he could reach.

A punch to his chin and he stopped as the world tilted around him. Gideon pulled at his shirt, his breath hot against his skin.

'One of these days you'll get what you deserve,' he hissed.

Sirius swallowed thickly, blinking away the fog that'd settled over him. Blue skies and bright morning light greeted him as Gideon moved away.

'You don't deserve to fight with us. And you sure as hell aren't good enough for this mission.'

He huffed a laugh, bitterness surging through him. 'Make sure to tell Dumbledore that.'

Gideon's boots scrapped across the dirt as small rocks scattered. He pushed himself up and stood on shaky legs. Grey eyes focused on the angry, little man.

The ginger backed away, breathing heavily, wandtip glowing.

'I'll be watching you Black.'

'Even when I shit or wank?'

The light at the end of Gideon's wand flared as he began walking away. 'You're no good. Your whole bloodline is tainted and you're no better than they are. Eventually, Dumbledore will see it and even he won't protect you.'

Blue eyes roamed the building behind him before meeting his stare. 'I've seen that spellwork used in a few places and no one had been able to break it. The last was at the Appleby safe house.'

His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded against his chest as a vindictive gleam settled over the prick's eyes.

'I wonder what Dumbledore and Moody will have to say about that.'

'I'm sure you'll find out.'

Sirius watched him walk away with a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his gut.

The Marauder stomped into the shop, the scent of roses going unnoticed as he warded the door shut behind him- a web of red rippled across the walls, slowly melting into them with a slight hiss.

_It's Black family magic son. Passed down the line, known only to the Lord and his heir._

His stomach churned and he raced to the loo, just managing to push the door open and bent over the bowl before vomiting.

The rancid and sour smell of beer and bile mixed together reached his nostrils and he vomited again.

Eyes stinging and head aching, he swallowed thickly. Leant against the wall, crouched by the toilet and head bowed, he took in deep, steadying breaths.

_The wards had been used in the Appleby safe house._

Stomach settled, he walked to the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He brushed his hair back with wet and shaking hands, staring at his reflection, not recognising the person looking back at him. He had a day's growth on his face. Eyes, bloodshot with dark smudges under them. A bruise forming on his lower lip and chin. Neck marked, lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt ... he looked how he felt.

The Marauder pulled out his wand and flinched as his clothes grew wet, hot and began to steam from the freshening charm. He washed his face as regret sank in.

Last night had not been worth any of this. He'd been left unsatisfied and no amount of sex had helped his mood or distracted his brain.

He took the steps down towards the cellar as he combed his fingers through his hair, brushing back his dark locks with damp fingers. He found Granger beginning her daily routine and paid her no mind as he began to look through her potion stores. The longer he searched, the quieter she got and the more he felt her gaze on him. His neck prickled.

When all ingredients were collected he took the space opposite her, across the table.

Before he began, he raised his wand and happily drank the bottle of Pepper-up that zoomed into his waiting hand.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as the unpleasant sensation of steam whistling out of his ears passed through him. Within a minute the feeling was gone and he began brewing. He could practically feel Hermione struggling to resist asking questions as he ground a handful of standard potion ingredient and twelve yellow daisies into a mortar. The dry herbs and delicate petals turning into a fine paste as he used more force than was technically needed.

He couldn't stop hearing Gideon's parting words. Not because of the insults and accusations, but because of their meaning. Appleby had been a few months back. Four at the most ...

_Reggie could still be alive._

The Marauder arched an eyebrow as he looked up and caught her curious eye. He glared when she looked away blushing and he suddenly remembered the plan he'd concocted in the early morning hours when sleep had eluded him.

'I talked to Dumbledore.'

She stopped her dicing and with a lick of her lips, she raised her head.

'You did?'

She sounded surprised. He nodded.

'He was at headquarters last night and I spoke to him.'

'What'd he say?'

Sirius didn't break eye contact as he shook his head, licking his suddenly dry lips. His heart was pounding in his chest and eardrums.

Regret and shame made him second guess himself but he pushed those feelings away. He had to do this. He had to.

'I'll only tell you after you answer my questions.'

'What?' she asked with a frown. Her dark eyes searched his face and quickly grew cold as she realised his plan. 'You're blackmailing me?'

Sirius tilted his head in a nonchalant way that hinted nothing at his nerves. 'You want an answer, I do too. Several in fact. Overdue answers, if we're being honest.'

'No.'

'Fine.'

He went back to his brewing. Picking eight Elf's ears leaves, he added them to the mortar.

'You can't do that,' she spat, glaring.

'I can and I am. I don't get answers, you don't get an answer. Deal with it.'

'Tell me what he said.'

'Who are you?'

She didn't answer, just stood there and glared. He didn't break eye contact, even as bile burned the back of his throat.

'What'd Dumbledore say?'

'He said no,' replied Sirius and she flinched as something pulled on his gut. 'Or maybe he said yes and he'll see you tonight. Or three weeks from now. Or not at all cos the answer really is no. Either way, I know the truth. You want answers? So do I.'

He saw her shifting in the corner of his eye as he began dicing a Murlap tentacle. He could feel her thinking again and he tried not to hold his breath.

His whole plan relied on her words from yesterday, on him really being her only chance of reaching Dumbledore. If she had other means of contacting him, then his plan had been fucked from the very beginning.

'I can't answer your questions,' she said through clenched teeth.

'Why? Dumbledore's orders?'

Silence was his answer. He could've screamed in frustration right then and there.

He slammed down the cutting knife, breathing in deeply before he looked up at her. Overwhelmed with desperation and anxious from all this secrecy- he couldn't take it anymore. He needed answers.

When he'd been a child, he'd fallen into the river which surrounded the Black country estate. It'd rained heavily for three days straight and the water had swollen. He'd gone exploring, hunting down Mudbloods, forcing them to surrender to the Merpeople when he'd slipped and fallen into the rapidly moving river. He'd felt the water move down his throat as he breathed it in. He'd bobbed and struggled to swim against the current only to find himself repeatedly being pulled under. All the while panic gripped him because he'd known- _known-_ that he was going to die.

That's what this whole thing with Granger and Dumbledore felt like.

No matter how much he fought it, the current was winning and he knew he was going to drown.

'Why do you want to join the Order so badly?' he asked her, his voice calm.

She licked her lips and his eyes followed her tongue's movement. 'Because I need to help.'

He nodded, still watching her mouth. 'And I need to know what I'm possibly gonna die for. That I'm doing something important instead of just sitting here, while my friends risk their lives out there... I'm not asking for detailed answers Granger. Just some peace of mind.'

He looked away from her when she didn't say anything and he was about to open his mouth again, when she spoke. Her voice quiet.

'I-I know things.'

Grey eyes met brown and he swallowed thickly, heart hammering against his chest.

'What kind of things?' he asked quietly.

'Information.'

'About what?'

Granger shook her head and he nodded, conceding to her refusal. He hadn't really expected an answer to that particular question.

'Is what I'm doing here important?'

The witch frowned, weighing her answer before she gave a reluctant nod.

'Is protecting whatever you know- worth dying for?'

She frowned, shaking her head, not understanding his meaning. Sirius gestured to her. 'Are you willing to die rather than give up what you know?'

She didn't hesitate to answer and the strength of her resolve flattened him.

'Yes.'

He studied her face as she begun to study his.

She had a natural beauty about her- organic and rare. Sirius frowned, once again wondering how he hadn't noticed it before.

_Become her friend._

'Truce Granger.'

'What?' she said with raised eyebrows.

He huffed a laugh. 'I said truce. I'm done fighting with you. If this is important, then there needs to be some kind of trust and that's not happening with how we get on.'

The brunette frowned, clearly suspicious. He didn't blame her. An olive branch was needed.

'Dumbledore said yes to you joining the Order. He'll visit you tonight at eleven to discuss your role.'

She looked shocked, dumbfounded even. Again, he couldn't blame her.

'He said yes?'

Sirius nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Just ... like that? Yeah, alright?'

The dog animagus licked his lips, looking away from her eyes. He started back on the purple, slimy tentacle.

'No, he asked me about your health and mental state.'

'He what?'

He told her what he could. As for his motives, he had no answer and he made that clear. A silence settled over them, all through which he continued to brew.

'What are you doing?' she asked him, peering into his cauldron as he turned off the flame.

'Brewing the method to my success.'

'Your what?'

Sirius smirked as he added three drops of pickled bat wing oil to the mixture. The potion spat and hissed, emitting pink sparks as it changed from a dark yellow to a black hue almost instantly.

'Is it illegal?'

He smiled at the witch opposite him and asked her the question he'd been wondering for some time now.

'How old are you Granger?'

A look of confusion fluttered across her face and he cleared his throat, wondering if he'd just asked the wrong thing. He lit the flame back on and the potion started to shimmer.

He cut some Valerian root and added them to the bubbling cauldron, turning the potion a dull orange.

'I'm nineteen,' he offered in an attempt to move along.

'Eighteen,' she said, not sounding sure at all.

He nodded and they once again grew silent. The Marauder studied his potion, removing it from the flame before it started to boil.

Sirius spared her a glance before adding the tentacles to the solution. Grey eyes trained on the mixture as the colour grew steadily lighter and began to solidify.

* * *

Hermione palmed the round, flat jar. Studying the yellow paste within.

Bruise remover. That had been the secret to Sirius' success. As soon as it'd cooled, he'd applied it to his neck and chin.

_Here,_ he'd said giving her some, _it'll work for any bruises but I don't recommend putting it on your delicate bits._

It was also the paste she'd applied to her own eye, years ago, given to her by the twins.

Sirius must've taught them to brew it, the arse.

'Hermione?'

She played with the jar some more, gathering her thoughts.

Trying to reign in her temper.

'I don't understand sir.'

'To have you be an active member is dangerous. You must know that.'

She did. She also knew how to bring down Voldemort. But he didn't want to hear it.

'Sir-'

He raised a hand and anger shot through her.

'I know what you're thinking but it's not wise to go down that road.'

'We could save lives.'

The silence between them was awkward and stilted. He didn't want to hear what she had to say and she wanted nothing more than to plead her case.

'Does Voldemort lose in your time?'

She was tempted to lie. No, she'd say and he'd be forced to reconsider and her plan would get underway.

That would've been the ideal. Realistically, she knew he knew the answer already and that this was just a ploy to prove his point. In the end, her silence was his answer and the powerful wizard sat back on his chair, raising his cup to drink his tea.

'We cannot risk the timeline Hermione.'

'The timeline has already been altered Professor,' she argued back.

The powerful wizard shook his head sadly. 'Only yours my dear.'

'And I'm important to it. I'm vital to his downfall sir. I know it may not seem like I am but I played a role.'

'I don't doubt that, I never have-'

'-And what of the other lives my presence has disrupted? Batty and Hooky's? What of Sirius'? Remus'? The twins and Moody and yours?' She searched his face for signs of recognition and acceptance. 'Ripples occurred the second I arrived. Your decisions on top of those ripples influenced their decisions and so on and so forth. Things have already changed sir. To ignore it and to acknowledge otherwise - that's the real danger.'

The headmaster shut his eyes with a deep sigh. He looked tired and worn. A pang of guilt shot through her, knowing she was partly the cause.

The silence returned, heavy and thick.

She took a sip of her untouched and now cold tea. It needed more sugar. And cream. But mostly sugar.

'We will stay the course.'

Her head bowed as frustration filled her every pore. 'Sir-'

'It is for the best. We cannot risk endangering the future and lives...'

'We can save lives sir! We could bring down Voldemort sooner rather than later.'

'We could fail and secure his victory.'

And there it was again, the great and ominous What If? to her plan. Her anger ebbed, replaced by a heaviness in her chest and belly.

There was nothing she could answer to that. He was right. Just as she was. They could save lives just as easily as destroy them. They could guarantee his failure or his victory.

It was a dangerous road she was walking on and she knew it but the ultimate end was too damn tempting. She had the knowledge, he had the power and resources, they could do it...

_But._

What if they failed?

What if Voldemort won?

In the end, that What If was too big to ignore.

A manila envelope slid across the table and she frowned at it before meeting his eyes.

'Will you accept?'

A glorified secretary. That's what he wanted her for. Her official position within the Order because anything else was too dangerous and too risky.

Active mission work was impossible due to obvious reasons. She couldn't know more than she already did, so mission related paperwork was out of the question.

Letter sending.

From people in hiding to their loved ones.

Without looking away she reached for the thin envelope.

There was no point in arguing anymore. He'd made his point clear, just as she had only to end up with nothing. Neither backing down. Both believing they were right, knowing the other was wrong. It was a pointless cycle they'd been playing with these past two hours.

'Hermione-'

'I'll do what I can,' she said, studying the thin letter.

Silence. Again.

She put the small jar back in her pocket. Drank more cold and bitter tea.

'I'm afraid.'

Her eyes shot up, her breath caught in her throat, her mouth ran dry and her stomach clenched.

'On more than one occasion, it has been tempting to ask you questions. To change the future. But reason and logic win over desire. I - _we_ \- cannot run the risk of him winning Hermione. You, above anyone else, know the pain and suffering he will cause. Just as you know the victory that will come from it. You don't need to say it Hermione, I already know. He is gone in your time. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that outcome is worth risking?'

No. She couldn't.

But she couldn't sit idly by either.

'If done correctly,' she quietly said. 'That outcome could come sooner.'

He looked away first, a pensive frown on his face as he served himself more tea. He didn't seem to mind drinking it cold.

'I will consider it,' he said and her mouth fell open, hope bursting in her chest. He raised a hand to still her. 'I am not agreeing to anything, but I will give it a thorough consideration.'

Her gaze dropped, her short lived hope shifting to disappointment. Bitter resentment burned through her. Really, he'd said nothing more than placating words. She was fiddling with the post when he spoke.

'Will that be all Hermione? Are you positive you are well and feel secure here?'

She nodded. 'I'm okay.'

He set his napkin on his plate, peering over her from his half-moon glasses. A small smile pulling at his lips. That twinkle of his, back. 'Yes, I dare say you are much better than last we met.'

'Yeah.'

She frowned, remembering Sirius' request. A pang of something akin to regret shot through her and her scowl deepened.

'Hermione?'

She blinked, clearing her throat. 'There is one more thing I'd like to discuss with you sir.'

The powerful wizard nodded and she scooted to the edge of her seat.

'Sirius. Can he be removed from guarding me? We don't- we have issues with communication and ...' she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back on her chair. 'We don't get on Professor and quite frankly we annoy each other. I'd very much like it if he was moved.'

The headmaster nodded, that damn twinkle of his full force. 'I understand but that's impossible at the moment. The twins are now overseas, Remus is up north and Alastor is spread thinly as it is. I'm sorry Hermione, but Sirius is the only available option for the foreseeable future.'

'I was afraid of that.'

He steepled his fingers over his mouth and she fought the urge to glare. She wasn't completely sure of course, but she swore he was hiding a smile behind his damn fingers.

'Tell me Hermione,' he crisply said while crossing his legs. 'What do you think about this new theory on incomplete incantations and transfiguration that has caused a stir? Minerva has been quite displeased.'

She grinned despite herself. 'I bet she has.'

His visit turned amicable after that, the remainder of which was spent discussing magical theory. It was a welcomed distraction she had to admit. Awkward and a bit forced but refreshing nonetheless.

She loved Batty, enjoyed their heated discussions and intellectual sparring but their interactions had steadily grown tiresome. Unsatisfying. Diminished in her mind's eye by the fact that she was forced to hold back and hide her full potential. Her secret was an invisible barrier, curving her words, affecting the outcome of all topics discussed and cheating them both out of a proper debate. With Dumbledore, she didn't have that problem. There was no need to hold herself back and it was liberating.

He left her in the early morning hours with a bid for a good night's rest and a promise for her continued safety.

Sleep was difficult to come by. Broken and interrupted, she tossed and turned all night. By the time sunlight peaked through her window, she was wide awake. It wasn't hard to get up and head to work.

It was odd working on a Sunday and Sirius did not hesitate to make his disgust known.

'What the fuck is wrong with you? It's _Sunday.'_

Hermione spared him a glance as she shuffled her way past him towards the shop. 'Well done. Can you tell the date and time too?'

'Granger, I know you like to work but your boner for it is getting ridiculous.'

She glared at him, flustered. 'Don't say that.'

'Sorry. Your lady wood.'

Turning to him, she pursed her lips and clenched her jaw as the bastard grinned. With a scowl, Hermione kept moving and didn't speak until they'd reached the shop.

The Marauder moved to his seat and she went to work. The silence didn't last and once again, she suspected he had an issue with quiet time.

She shut her eyes, begging for strength and fortitude as he spoke. Mentally preparing herself for his usual attacks. The sour taste of regret settled on the back of her throat. She felt stupid almost. For a second, she had actually thought he'd stick to his truce idea.

'What'd Dumbledore say?'

Hermione jumped, startled by his sudden closeness.

'What are you doing?' she asked as he began to chop ingredients alongside her.

'Brewing.'

She blinked. 'You ran out of hickey remover already?'

He chuckled and her eyebrows shot upwards.

'Unfortunately, no.'

'Then what are you doing?'

'Brew-'

'I know you're brewing,' she snapped as he smirked. 'Why?'

Sirius lifted his head and sighed at the ceiling before turning to her. 'I thought we'd agreed on a truce Granger?'

'Technically, you agreed. I didn't say anything.'

'No. You did. You just forgot.'

She shook her head. 'I'm pretty sure I didn't.'

'Didn't what?'

'Forget about agreeing with you.'

Black eyebrows shot upwards with feigned confusion that grated on her nerves. 'Agreed to what?'

'A truce!' she hissed.

'Why thank you Granger. I'd like that.'

He was insufferable. Completely and without exception and she most certainly did not stare at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The Marauder snickered when she turned back to her potion ingredients, her cheeks burning.

The cellar was too hot she realised. She'd have to check on that later.

The silence got to him again and he began to fidget, shifting from one foot to another. From the corner of her eye, she could see him raising and dropping his hand only to huff and shift some more.

He bumped her left shoulder with his elbow which could only be interpreted as downright _playful._ 'So what'd Dumbledore say?'

She was staring again. She knew she was but she couldn't help it. He was acting bloody weird and it was disturbing as hell.

Sirius Black was being _nice._ Damn near friendly. To _her._

He had to be under the Imperius Curse. Or drunk. Possibly both. Either way something was horribly wrong.

'What's wrong with you?'

He huffed a laugh, nodding. 'Yeah, I know. Feels bloody weird to me too.'

'Then why-'

Sirius groaned, bowing his head. 'Because we agreed on a truce Granger and if it's the last fucking thing we do, we will get on. So even if it kills us, we will be matey.' He gave her a sideways glance. 'Just don't fall in love with me.'

Hermione snorted. 'I can pretty much guarantee that that will not happen.'

'Come on Granger, just fucking tell me already.'

She picked up her silver knife and told him what she could. About her new position as Order owl and their conversation about his immediate removal which she was sure he'd been after.

'... So yeah, I tried... Sorry,' she added as an afterthought.

He'd fallen quiet halfway through her explanation, brow furrowed staring at the potion ingredients before him. She had the distinct impression that he wasn't really looking at them though. That he was in fact, miles away.

Hermione started the flame and began to fill the cauldron with water.

'Leave it,' he said, eyes downcast and voice rough.

She frowned at him. 'Sorry?'

'Sit down Granger. We gotta talk.'

The back of her neck stood on end and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. That feeling that something was wrong flooded back and she found that whatever he had to say, that she suddenly didn't want to hear it.

Her life was finally falling back in line. Some semblance of control had been formed and she had the very strong sense that it was going to get shot to hell. She doesn't know how it happened but she found herself sat on her stool. Staring at him. Again.

Except this time, he was staring right back.

_His eyes are beautiful._

Light grey in the centre, a darker shade surrounding the iris. Her own eyes roamed his face and once again she became acutely aware of how handsome he was. It was damn near criminal.

He cleared his throat, studying her face.

'I didn't tell you everything yesterday.'

A swooping sensation went through her stomach and she nodded slowly, running her tongue over her lips. 'Okay...?'

Grey eyes watched her mouth and she fought the urge to lick them again.

'You were going to talk to Dumbledore, so I couldn't run the risk of telling you everything... When I spoke to him, after he asked all those questions about your health and shit, he gave me new orders. In regards to you, I mean.'

She watched his anxious face. Stunned or numb, she didn't know what she was feeling but she was finding it hard to look away. His eyes moved over her face while she continued to focus on his eyes. Perhaps he was waiting for her to speak or ask something but she had nothing.

He looked down and away and the act made anger flare through her because she needed to see his face as he said whatever the hell it was that he had to say.

'I'm supposed to become your friend and spy on you for him.'

She knew it.

It'd been too strange that he'd agreed to her joining the Order. Anger fought with frustration and hurt but ultimately, acceptance won. She should've expected this really. It'd been established that she was Dumbledore's best card, he'd want her well monitored. The only thing that didn't make sense in the whole equation was Sirius. He, she couldn't understand.

'Why are you telling me this,' she asked quietly.

He didn't answer right away and her anxiety built the longer he remained quiet.

'The only reason I've survived this long Granger is because I follow my instinct first and orders second.'

'And you think he's wrong.'

A single nod was his answer.

'Why?'

'Because I don't think you're dangerous or that you deserve that shit from him.'

'And you're telling me why?'

He met her stare and held it. 'Because he's fucking us both Granger and as far as I'm concerned, we're in this shit together whether we like it or not. He wants to keep you in line through me while you both keep me in the dark and even with all this secrecy, I still can't help but feel that he's fucking you over harder than me. And honestly? I don't like that.'

Her mouth was dry. She looked down at her hands, at his boots, at him.

'Why do you even care?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know. Like I said, I follow my gut.'

'So what?' Hermione shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. 'What are you trying to say Sirius? What- what is this?' she asked him, gesturing between them. 'What does it mean?'

'It means we're partners on a mission, Granger. You watch my back and I'll watch yours. Either of us gets a hint that he's trying to change the game on us again, we talk about it. Prepare if need be, I don't know.'

'You're acting like he's the enemy.'

Sirius shook his head. 'He's not. He's the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. And that's much worse.'

She licked her lips, shaking her head. Eyes shut as she tried to make sense of this whole thing.

'Our lives are in each other's hands Granger, it's about sodding time we started acting like it.'

'So ... what? You'll tell me everything he says?'

'Pretty much,' he said.

'And you expect me to what? Return the favour by telling you things? I can't do that Sirius.'

'I know and I'm not expecting it. Just don't keep me in dark if you can help it. Simple as that.'

This was mad. Absolutely and unequivocally frightening. Not because it felt wrong, but because she felt like he was throwing her a lifeline.

A slow nod, followed by a firmer one. 'Okay ... okay. Yeah.'

'So truce?'

'Truce.'

'Alright,' he said spinning in his seat and picking up the cutting knife.

Her hand trembled as she picked up the Potioneer's Wand, but before she could do anything with it Sirius stopped her.

'Leave it Granger, I'll brew. Tend to those letters you told me about,' he nodded at her purse where she'd told him she kept them. 'I know how much trouble they are. Whenever a few of us have the chance we try and sort through them but we hardly ever finish. That envelope is magically enhanced so there'll be more than a few in there. Leave the brewing to me.'

She didn't move, just stared at his messy working area.

'I can brew Granger,' he said without a hint of humour. 'Trust me.'

_Trust me._

Heavy words, filled to brim with impossible expectations that could blow up in her face.

_Could she trust him?_ She didn't know him. All she had was a vague idea in regards to his loyalty when it came to those he loved- not strangers like her.

Hermione hadn't much liked the Sirius of her time but she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust him. She'd saved his life, he knew he could trust her.

This Sirius wasn't him though. And she'd done nothing to earn that kind of trust from him.

He could easily be lying. This could all be a ploy to do as Dumbledore said...

'How can I?' she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to look at her. His dark hair falling over his eyes, hiding half his face.

'The same way I'll have to learn to trust you.'

She shook her head. 'It's not that easy.'

He pushed back his fringe, piercing her with his beautiful eyes. 'I won't hurt you Granger. And I won't ever let anyone hurt you. I promise.'

She swallowed. A shaky nod her own reply.

Hermione stood and moved to the opposite end of her table, the only bit she'd maintained clutter free.

He was right about the envelope. She reached into it and was met with a handful of unread and unopened post.

She was opening the first letter, dated four months ago, when he spoke.

'You have a middle name Granger?'

She nodded, fear gripping her because of that simple question.

_Trust me._

'Jean ... You?'

'Orion. Favourite colour and song...?'


	15. Flame

As per usual, many thanks to Dave for his beta skills. He's on my faves list, check him out sometime.

* * *

**Silver**

Flame

* * *

'There has to be an easier way to do this,' groaned Hermione.

Exhausted, overwhelmed and completely frustrated, she glared at nothing in particular. The letters scattered around her doing nothing to help her foul mood.

'There isn't. This is the only fool-proof method.'

She dropped the parchment she'd been holding on a nearby pile that contained approximately twenty or so letters, all from the same man and woman. Whoever Bernard Gibson was, there was no doubt in her mind that the love he'd shared with Mary Carmichael of Leeds, ran deep and without restraint. They'd each sent a letter per week by the looks of it.

It was sweet.

Romantic.

Tragic.

According to the list of names she'd been given, he'd been injured in a safe house raid a week ago. He didn't make it. The majority of their letters, undelivered. It was possible Mary Carmichael didn't even know he was dead. He was gone and the woman he'd loved had yet to mourn him because to her, he was simply hidden away.

She lived, unknowing that his final goodbye sat forgotten, in an overflowing manila envelope.

It angered her. Made her ache with empty, _pointless_ longing.

Emotionally wrung out did not begin to describe how she felt. She'd been doing this whole letter reading and sorting thing a fortnight and she was done.

She'd been fine at first but then her dreams began and now, she wasn't so okay anymore. It was doing her head in but even she knew the importance of her work. In the grand scheme of things it may not have made a difference but it was something. If nothing else, it'd be a goodbye for someone somewhere.

It was a thankless job. One she was supposed to do with the utmost care so as to not let anything slip by, while simultaneously remaining unaffected. _Disassociation is key,_ Sirius had said_._

Problem was, she wasn't hard wired that way. Hermione had always cared a bit too much when she probably shouldn't have and this time had been no different.

The letters had begun to affect her.

Her sleep grew steadily interrupted as her nightmares turned into dreams. Images of her loved ones replaced tortured Muggleborns, war and death. Memories long suppressed returned to her in vibrant colours. Forgotten days of mindless conversations, broken by laughter haunted her dreams. It was bittersweet torture.

The nightmares had rarely lingered after she'd woken up. Her dreams stayed with her for days. Sometimes they faded upon waking and that was much worse. Honestly, at this point, she didn't know which she preferred.

Hermione picked up another letter and began to read.

_Dear Matilde. Hope you're well ... arrived safely ... Order members have been kind and welcoming ... cannot tell you where I am but rest assured that I am well. Please do not worry. I am not alone as you'd feared. It would appear that the Auror who advised me to seek out the Headmaster was correct. There are plenty of us here. From different places and all with their own fascinating stories to tell that it's impossible to feel alone. For instance, just next door there's an older woman who'd once worked as Winston Churchill's maid! You will not believe the stories she tells. Just the other day she told me of his penchant for naked ... Again, don't worry ... I miss you ... take care ... see you soon. Yours, Sarah Pennington. P.S. Please give Lady Miss Spottington III a cuddle for me and tell her mummy misses her. I've enclosed a spot of catnip for her. Take care friend._

She looked at the date and sighed. Dated ten months ago. Hermione searched for the woman's name and found her alive and well in Inverness.

Another drop of bitterness coated the back of her throat.

'More than half of these people only bother with I love yous and I miss yous and be safes and endless reassurances and yet their letters are undelivered,' she complained. 'It's not right.'

Sirius grunted as he began to ladle Calming Drought into a bottle. 'Maybe not, but like you said only more than half do. What about the others who are stupid enough to give away their location just because they're homesick or horny?'

The brunette bit the inside of her cheek. It was true. She'd read a few letters from people who did not seem to understand the words, protective custody.

It was understandable, she supposed, to miss your loved ones and to want to let them know where you were but really. Some of these damn people were stupid as hell.

_Selfish._

It disgusted her.

Hermione shook her head. 'What about House Elves?'

'Too dangerous for them and for the households they service. If they're recognised as belonging to a certain family then that family is fucked.'

'Owls? No wait. We already discussed that,' she mumbled as he nodded.

'Owls can be captured,' they said together.

'Yeah,' she said, her voice shaky.

She felt his gaze on her almost instantly.

'You alright Granger? Need a break?'

She shook her head and then abruptly nodded as she changed her mind. 'Yeah. Can we switch for a bit?'

The Marauder set down the ladle and vial he'd been holding as she pushed off her seat and took his place behind the table.

Her eyes itched and watered as she tried to blink away tears. Her throat burning and chest heavy.

'Don't start fucking crying.'

Hermione glared at the Marauder. 'I'm not,' she lied.

'No?'

'No.'

'Then your brain is leaking.'

Rather than dignifying his stupidity with an answer she picked up the ladle as the sound of ripping envelopes reached her ears.

'You can't let these things get to you Granger. You have to push shit away otherwise you'll be fucking useless.'

Hermione turned and found him reading the letter in his hand. A frown on his brow, the edges of his smooth lips turned down.

He was a constant contradiction.

A fortnight had passed since their truce and in that time, she'd discovered more about him than she'd ever suspected and all of it without him saying a single word.

The Marauder was all gestures and actions. What he said didn't always match up with what he did.

She'd asked about the war, he'd told her to shut her mouth and stop asking questions. The next day he'd brought her an independent newspaper, free of the Ministry's censure.

He said that it was pointless to worry so damn much but he asked her to check over his potions when he thought he'd made a mistake.

His air of nonchalance was forced. She knew this because he was constantly moving. His hands would fidget and his legs shook when the rest of him stood still. He didn't like silence, it seemed to make him nervous. If the music was too loud, he got anxious.

The brunette wished she could say it hadn't altered her opinion of him but it had.

She saw him as he was and suddenly the great Sirius Black, animagus, Marauder and legend became human and just as fragile.

He was scared.

Hermione may have jumped at loud noises but his eyes darted to every shadow.

The anger was real though. It was the only part of him that wasn't a front for something else. There was no way to hide that much frustration. It was welcomed in an odd sort of way. He was real, raw and in his own way, damaged.

He made her feel less alone.

'Stop staring Granger,' he muttered, still studying the letter. 'I'm not your type.'

'Don't flatter yourself. I was just thinking-'

'Did it hurt?'

She spared him a glance before returning to her task. 'What have people tried?'

'With the letters?' he asked, looking back up at her. 'Owls, elves, two-way mirrors, enchanted parchment and Muggle post.'

Hermione glared down at the potion. 'How could they all fail?'

'Easily. We didn't want to endanger our house-elves or owls so we never really tried to use them. Enchanting parchment is tricky and time consuming and unsafe. People still say too much in letters, special parchment or not. Two-way mirrors, same thing. Plus, we had some bloke who had his own set and dropped it while fleeing a raid. Death Eaters found a way to trace back its magic and locate its twin. The man's entire family was tortured and killed. So that idea died fairly quickly. As for the Muggle post, it's too risky. Not only does it endanger Muggles and the International Statue of Secrecy, it forces the Ministry to work alongside Muggles which the Wizenmagot and Order isn't too keen on.'

'No, I imagine not.'

'Mm. Admit defeat Granger. Better people have tried to find a secure method of communication and have failed repeatedly. What hope do we have?'

'We could at least try.'

Sirius nodded. 'I could try a lot of shit. Doesn't mean I'm going to or that I'll succeed.'

'So you don't care?'

'Not really. My job is to keep these people safe and to an extent, informed. Not work as an owl in between all the life-endangering shit. But, if you somehow manage to find a cheap and effective way of sending messages, I'll fund your discovery and throw so much fucking money at you that you won't know what to do with it.'

Hermione scowled, staring at him. 'I don't need your...' _Galleons._

Much like before, the idea burst from thin air and took rapid shape. She swallowed thickly, her mind racing. Electric fire coursing through the synapses of her brain.

She was a bloody idiot.

'We can use coins,' she said, sounding breathless to her own ears.

Sirius frowned at her, questions in his eyes. Or confusion. Most likely both. Grey eyes studied her, brow furrowed. She nodded at him. She was right. She knew she was. They could use Galleons. Not everyone could be given one of course, only those who proved themselves trustworthy and it'd be a one way communication but at least there would be evidence that the loved one still lived.

Her eyes shot back to him.

'We could use coins,' she said again.

Sirius blinked at her and spoke slowly. 'What are you on about Granger?'

'Enchanted coins. Galleons. We can use them to send messages.'

'Bullshit.'

She shook her head. 'It's not, I've used them before.'

He didn't believe her. She'd have to show him.

The door burst open as she ran towards it. Sirius shouted, loud footsteps echoed beneath her as her heart pounded in her ears. The register popped open and she grabbed a gold coin.

'Granger! What the fu-'

Hermione turned as Sirius reached her. Wand out, eyes blazing, chest heaving. He looked angry but she didn't care. She snatched his wand and with a tap, two Galleons shuffled out of the single one. Three perfect copies. Only one was valid. She put the real one back lest she confused them.

'Gra-'

She shook her head absentmindedly. 'It won't work on the real one. It has to be a fake coin.'

A downward flick with a curl at the bottom, like a reverse J and two curls at the end. The coins glowed white. She tapped one twice and its counterpart burned red before fading back to normal and cancelling the spell. She smiled and shoved the secondary coin to an unmoving Marauder.

'Look at the numbers on top,' she instructed, tapping her own Galleon. _We can use coins._

Expectant eyes darted up to the Sirius, who flinched when his coin burned white. His mouth fell open.

For several seconds nothing was said. Pride burned in her chest at having stunned him and he was too shell-shocked to do more than look between her and his coin. Finally sense kicked in and the Marauder blinked.

'Did you just use my fucking wand?'

Hermione frowned. And then scowled.

She'd just shown him something useful and if she was honest, pretty damn impressive and rather than comment on the magic he complained about her using his wan- Hermione sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes growing wide as she looked down at her hand. To the wand clasped firmly by trembling fingers.

She'd used her magic.

She swallowed thickly. Breathing was getting harder to do and her eyes were stinging.

'Hey.'

Hermione didn't look away from her hand. Didn't react when his larger hand reclaimed the wand.

'Sit down Granger. You look a bit pale.'

She blinked and a tear fell, she let it. Her eyes sought him out.

'You alright?'

His voice was soft again. Hermione jerked her head, nodding. He shifted in front of her. 'Right. Shit. Okay. Just, hold on.'

He moved. Did something, she didn't know what but suddenly his arms were gripping hers and then she was sitting and a flask was being shoved into her hand.

'Here, drink this.'

She did as told and almost immediately started choking as Firewhisky burned her throat and nose, the taste shocking her into accidentally inhaling some of it. Her eyes watered again but for an entirely different reason.

Still coughing, dark eyes shot to the Marauder. He was studying the coin again, flipping it over in his hand. Thumb moving over the markings.

'Looks real,' he muttered.

Hermione cleared her scratchy throat, nodding.

Sirius blinked. 'How'd you do it?'

Answering coughs were the only reply she could give him. Grey eyes darted back to the coin before he reached for her own, which lay on the counter between them.

A tap of his wand and a glowing coin.

He looked up at her, disbelief pouring out of him as he shook his head. He may not admit it but she saw the truth in his eyes and in the way he looked at her. She'd impressed him.

'Told you,' she managed to croak out.

The Marauder huffed a laugh. 'You just had to add that in didn't you?'

She nodded because yes, she really did need to.

'How'd you do it?'

Much like fifth year, Hermione explained the logic behind the magic and where her idea originated from. He'd reacted with nothing more than a twitch of his eyebrows.

'That's some fancy spell casting Granger.'

She shrugged, trying to look modest while inwardly pleased with his praise. 'It's nothing.'

'It's advanced magic, not easily cast. While using someone else's wand too. As your magic's being an arse.'

The brunette squirmed, starting to feel a bit shy. She hadn't really thought of it. She'd just acted. Saw his wand, needed to perform a spell and bam! Magic.

A watery smile formed on her lips.

Sirius laughed as he tossed her back her coin. 'Not bad Granger. Not bad at all.'

Hermione arched an eyebrow at the message written in it. He grinned back at her.

'Are you going to tell Dumbledore?'

'About your magic suddenly making an unexpected appearance? Not unless you tell me to. I will mention this coin idea though. Expect a visit from him or Moody in future I think.' Sirius gestured at the cellar. 'Come on Granger we've got shit to do.'

When she entered the room, he was already tearing into a new letter. Brow furrowed in concentration as a pout graced his lips.

'Granger stop bloody staring.'

'I'm not,' she said looking away. Her cheeks burning.

'Sorry about using your wand,' she murmured, needing it to be said. 'I ... it just happened, I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry about it, just don't do it again.'

'But-'

'Let it go Granger.'

She nodded at the potions, fighting the urge to look back at him.

'What happened to your wand?' he asked her. She could see him watching her from the corner of her eye.

Hermione shrugged, her chest burning as her vision blurred. 'I don't know. Lost it.'

'Don't fucking start crying.'

'I'm. Not,' she hissed, glaring at him before returning her focus to the potions.

'Good ... one last thing Granger?'

Hermione frowned up at him, at his sudden change of tone.

'Did you like handling my wand?' he asked with a wink.

'Oh shut up,' she said as he laughed, her cheeks tinged pink.

His barking laughter rang throughout the cellar and she bit back a smile, his good humour infectious. Brown eyes studied the wizard, before quickly looking away.

Hermione had thought him cold, selfish and somewhat uncaring but the more she got to know him the more she began to realise how wrong she'd been.

He was angry, unpleasant and afraid. He did not seem to think before speaking and he was prone to acting before thinking.

A constant contradiction and that's why she'd been wrong about him.

All his flaws aside, he was passionate about what he was doing and was more than willing to lay down his life for what he knew was right. As scared as he was and as hard as he tried to hide it and look disinterested, he was anything but.

Hermione was starting to suspect it was a survival mechanism. Used to keep himself level headed and in the now which was preferable to giving in and feeling everything all at once. She understood that sentiment far too well. Because that, she realised, was his problem.

He felt far too deeply and cared a bit too much.

* * *

Granger was fiddling with her damn bracelet again.

Bloody witch just loved playing with those little blue stones. Thing was, she probably didn't even know she was doing it. It'd started earlier in the week and he was starting to think it was a nervous tick or something. It was helpful as fuck all if he was honest but it was starting to affect him too.

Usually, when she started playing with them he knew to switch stations and that usually solved the problem. Unfortunately for him, she'd started doing it a lot more lately and for every-fucking-thing. It was doing his head in.

For fuck's sake, they were only walking through the damn village. There was no one around. Batty's door was literally _right there._ Why the hell was she playing with the damn stones?

Whatever. She was the old bat's problem now.

The Marauder studied the street as she reached into her purse.

Key in place, she turned the metal and he felt the usual bit of magic hum through the air, a slight vibration that he felt against his chest. Not unpleasant but very obviously there. Proof that she was well guarded.

A cool breeze moved through the street, lifting his fringe and swaying her hair. A gentle reminder that September had arrived.

Another gust of wind and her bushy curls danced, filling the air with her clean scent. Pale eyes traced the curve of her spine and hips before blinking back up at her.

The witch turned and gave him a tight lipped smile.

'Good night Sirius.'

A terse nod. 'Night Granger.'

The Marauder took a bite of his sandwich as he turned towards his spot when the sound of a door opening and her scent alerted him of her presence. No sooner had he turned when the brunette walked briskly past him.

'Forgot to buy eggs,' she announced without a backwards glance.

Sirius took another bite of his dry meal as he walked behind her. He'd finished it by the time they reached the shop and even gave her a few coins to buy him a drink. He'd barely had enough time to lean against the wall before a bottle was thrust under his nose and she'd begun her speed walk through the village.

'Granger what the fuck is wrong with you?'

The brunette shook her head. 'She'd asked me to buy them this morning on my way back and I'd forgot.'

'That doesn't explain why you're bloody running,' he said, eyes focused on the back of her head.

'I left the bath running.'

As if Accio'd, the image of Granger soaking in a tub assaulted his brain. Of wet hair and water droplets running down her back, tracing her every curve.

He took a gulp of his drink as grey eyes flit down to her arse and back up again.

Huh. Not bad.

Eyes returned to said arse and he pointedly looked away.

Nice was one thing but he couldn't ogle Granger's arse. It wasn't like it was the best arse he'd ever seen.

He didn't think about it again until she entered her home and he had another quick glance. It was shocking he hadn't notice before. Then again, Granger had been insufferable at first. He'd been too busy glaring after her to pay close enough attention.

Marley's was nice too, he'd spent enough time staring at it to know. But then there was that redhead when he'd gone out in Birmingham. He was still comparing arses when Fabian arrived thirty minutes later, much earlier than usual.

'What's wrong?' he asked after making sure it was him.

'Nothing. Just needed a bit of quiet. Too much noise and activity and ... it was making me itch.'

Sirius nodded slowly. 'Everything alright?'

Fabian gave him a side smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'Yeah. Go on mate. I'll stay here.'

'Won't Dumbledore or Moody mind?'

'Probably,' said the shorter bloke as he took a seat at the base of the tree. 'But they're in Hogwarts and left Dorcas in charge for the night. They won't know.'

Something was wrong. His gut clenched. The Marauder swallowed thickly and opened his mouth to say something but Fabian cut him off.

'Sirius,' he said looking up at him. His tone leaving no room for discussion. 'Go.'

He ran. He didn't think. He just took off.

_Reggie. Peter. James. Remus._

His boot clad feet pounded against the cobblestones, his hair flying behind him. Lungs burning, he reached the gate of Blossom Grove and jumped the fence. Through the garden door, past the large garden and beneath the tree he Disapparated.

A shift in his magic and the world turned grey as he started to run. Sounds and smells assaulted him as the woods whirled past him until finally, a flicker of fire caught his eye.

Grey became colours, smells and sounds lessened around him as he struggled to stand upright and keep his momentum. He reached the clearing, past the wards and barrelled into his home.

Panting, he stormed into the dining room and paused when all eyes fell on him. He saw it in their eyes long before Dorcas opened her mouth.

'Sirius.'

He shook his head annoyed and suddenly angered by her tone. He didn't need that placating, comforting bullshit she used on Muggles before erasing their memories.

'Who?' _Who's dead? Who died? Reggie. Peter. James. Remus._

'James.'

Everything stopped.

All the air left his lungs and the room spun. His vision swam out of focus as his blood rushed in his ears.

Dorcas was talking again. He saw it. Her mouth was moving but he couldn't ... she wasn't...

A cool hand tickled the back of his neck. Soft and delicate fingers massaged the sensitive skin as soft lips pressed against his jaw, cheek and ear. Soft words, gently whispered in his ear.

'Sirius ... it's okay. He's just a day late ... he should've been back by now. It doesn't mean he's dead.'

_A day late._

James was a day late.

That was okay.

It was fine.

It didn't mean anything.

These things happened sometimes. Unforeseen problems were common. The last time he'd travelled north, he'd found himself surrounded but safely hidden, in the highlands. Unable to Apparate and with an injured foot Sirius had been forced to wait out Snatchers, along with the four kids he'd been sent to pick up. It'd cost him three days.

Pete had been M.I.A. for two days a few months back. Remus a whole bloody week, a year ago. A day didn't mean anything.

It was fine.

It was.

It had to be.

The dog animagus' eyes darted to the witch standing before him. Her heat and scent overwhelming him. Comforting him as his heartbeat returned to normal.

Her beautiful, blue eyes studied him. 'Alright?'

Sirius pulled her into his arms, slamming his eyes shut.

For a second he'd thought- he'd thought...

'I'm being stupid,' he mumbled against her hair and suddenly stiffened when he opened his eyes and found the whole room watching them.

Curious looks mingled with worried glances.

'It's just a day,' Dorcas reaffirmed the lies. Her voice back to Obliviator mode. 'It doesn't mean anything.'

Sirius nodded because she was right. It didn't mean anything. Except it did. But it didn't.

It both did and didn't.

He grabbed Marley and gently pulled her away from him. Shaking hands pushed back his fringe and he swallowed thickly. Pale eyes looked at everything and nothing at once, avoiding the knowing and understanding looks he knew were being directed at him.

He cleared his throat as the noise around him slowly returned. Marley was still there in front of him but he couldn't look at her. If he did- if he did...

Sirius swallowed thickly, taking a backwards step and leaving the room.

He needed to be alone.

Marley said something behind him but he didn't look back or stop. The thought of Apparating hadn't even crossed his mind. Movement and stairs were the only logical thing he could think of at that moment.

He stopped outside James' door and cursed himself when he heard movement from inside. He was a shit friend. A knock and the door swung open.

Pale face splotchy. Green eyes, red-rimmed. Nose pink. Parted lips red and swollen from where she'd bitten them, hair dishevelled- even then, Lily Evans was lovely.

Sirius lifted his arms and without hesitation, the petite witch slammed into him. Body shaking as she sobbed into his chest.

He did what he could, which was basically nothing. Words weren't enough and nothing could be done. Until more information came in all they could do was sit and wait.

Pointless waiting and silence because he was useless and words were empty fucking things. But he had to do something. James expected it of him.

'Alright Evans that's enough.' He pushed her away and further into the room, willing the door shut behind him. 'Shut it.'

Her tears didn't stop but she slowly quieted. Eventually the sobs became sniffles and after some time, pitiful eyes looked up at him.

Cursing inwardly he ran his hand through his hair.

He was shit with crying women. Remus was the one who normally dealt with an over emotional Evans when James wasn't around. Sometimes Pete, but never him.

Out of insecurity and awkwardness, Sirius gestured to the bed. If he was going to make shit worse, there was no reason why they couldn't be comfortable.

'Come on Evans, give us a cuddle.'

She followed blindly and didn't protest, just did as he said. He fucking hated that. Evans was all fire and fury. Not this.

The redhead didn't do compliance.

Sirius leant against the headboard and pulled her between his legs, curled on her side, tucked under his chin. She started crying again and his eyes started burning.

Her gut-wrenching sobs were loud. There was too much noise.

'Shut the fuck up Evans,' Sirius muttered, his voice thick. 'He's only been gone a day. He wouldn't want you crying and we both know it.'

More sniffing. 'Your heart is racing.'

It was. 'Lies.'

'I can hear it.'

'You're sat between my legs Evans, of course it's racing.'

She didn't react to his baiting. He hadn't really expected her to.

'Do you really think he's okay?'

_No._ 'Yes.'

The witch shifted and tearful, green eyes met his stare as his heart continued to race. 'You're lying.'

Sirius looked away, pulling her back against him. 'Marley's downstairs. I was an arse to her again. You should probably slap me.'

She didn't say anything and he fought the urge to shake her. The room was too quiet.

'What'd you do?' she finally asked and his jaw unclenched.

'Ignored her when she tried talking to me.'

She hummed and he felt it rather than heard it. 'It's not enough to warrant a slap. It's definitely not the worst thing you've done. I'm sure she'll live. It's not the end of her world if you don't focus your attention on her after all.'

'Now who's lying?'

'Be nice.'

It got quiet again. And his trainers needed cleaning. He'd have to give them a wash. Or a quick _Scourgify_ like Mrs Potter had taught him and Jam-

_James is missing._

The room pulsed around him. His vision blurred and a rushing sound filled his ears.

Evans' hand settled over his heart as she snuggled in closer. His shoulders slumped as he released a breath he'd unknowingly held. Pale eyes fluttered shut and opened just as quickly.

His body was flushing hot. Sweat peppered his brow as he struggled to regain control of his breathing.

All throughout, the witch in his arms said nothing and embarrassment flooded him because he knew that she knew. His cheeks burned.

'You really don't fancy her do you?' she asked him. Her voice soft and kind. Obliviator-like.

Sirius didn't answer her. He didn't really need to. Besides, he didn't fully trust his ability to speak right now.

'You're an arsehole Sirius.'

True. He had no defence for that.

'She thinks you'll come round you know?'

The Marauder groaned. 'Evans, can we not talk about this?

'I can start crying again?'

'I just don't feel that way about her,' Sirius explained, grimacing.

'She's in love with you.'

He'd suspected as much and guilt settled heavily on his chest. As kind and beautiful as she was, Marley never had had much sense when it came to him.

'She'll get over it.'

She would. She'd have to. It'd be for the best.

His love for Marley wasn't romantic and nothing would change that. Not now anyway, not anymore. If it hadn't happened when they were in school and constantly around each other, it wasn't going to happen now - when they barely spoke.

Silence. Again. He focused on the small and warm hand against his chest.

'Something hard is poking me in the thigh.'

'It's my dick.'

'No wonder it feels small.'

After insulting his giant manhood, the rude ginger took liberties upon his person. Reaching into his pocket she pulled out a Galleon.

_Granger's_ Galleon.

Sirius stopped breathing. His eyebrows shot up and his hand twitched to snatch it back. He had to clench his fists and force his arms to stay passively around her because if he reacted, she'd get curious and a curious Lily Evans was never a good thing.

Evans turned the fake coin over in her hands, staring down at it. Pale eyes blinked and his insides squirmed every time the words _Holy shit_ flashed before their eyes.

But she didn't seem to see them.

After several heart stopping seconds, she threw the fake Galleon back at him and it landed on his stomach with a thud. He didn't hesitate to snatch it back up.

'I'm tired.'

Sirius repositioned them, patting the empty space beside him and pulled her into his side when she lay down.

She started sniffing the second her head hit his chest. He said the first thing he could think of.

'Hey Evans? Wanna fuck?'

A snort and the pressure in his chest and throat lessened.

_'Please,'_ he said, exaggerating the word. 'You're all over me. You know you want it.'

'I really don't.'

'You really do Evans. Look at me. Even your boyfriend screams my name during sex. Trust me. You want this. It'd be the best minute and a half of your life.'

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head and he felt himself smile in return.

'Only a minute and a half huh?'

He nodded. 'The _best_ minute and half, yeah.'

'That's twice as long as James,' she said and he snorted. 'I'm impressed Sirius. And for the record, the only reason he yells out your name is cos you magic the doors open.'

Sirius shrugged. 'Or he wants me and you're in denial over his need for me. Lucky for you, I'm not gay and you're his girl Evans, so stop begging me for a shag. It's not happening. I mean, if you ask nicely it might but that's beside the point.'

'Right,' she yawned. 'Go on then. What's the point?'

'That you're tired. Sleep.'

She didn't reply and he suspected she'd fallen asleep.

He lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Trying not to overthink and failing miserably.

James had only been gone one extra day and honestly, a day wasn't much. Really, it didn't mean anything. Shit happened and things didn't always go to plan.

That didn't help though. It might be true but it was still fucked up. The delay could easily imply caution or capture. Death or … worse.

_Shit happened and things didn't always go to plan._

His hand hurt.

The animagus blinked, lifting his hand. He'd been holding the Galleon tight enough that it'd dug into his skin, marking him.

He frowned at the numbers imbedded into his palm. They didn't match up to the ones he remembered.

His coin had started with the numbers 311, like his birthday. This coin read, 106.

He'd handed her the wrong coin.

Sirius ran his thumb over the number. A slight vibration under his finger as his magic reacted to his will.

'Knock knock,' he murmured, the words shifting and changing upon his command.

He waited a moment before repeating the action.

_Who's there?_ he imagined Granger saying.

'Boo.'

_Boo who? _

'Don't start fucking crying.'

He stared at the lettering for a long time afterwards, resisting the urge to fling it across the room. Reluctantly putting the coin back in his pocket and shutting his eyes, he fought the pull to get up and move.

Left alone with his thoughts, sleep didn't come easy. Logic fucked off and his racing mind made sure to turn on some fucked up and vivid scenarios.

His gut told him James was missing even as he refused to acknowledge it.

If he'd been killed, they'd know soon enough. If Dumbledore and Moody were discussing it, as he suspected they were, then a plan was in motion. If nothing else, they'd retrieve the body- _James. _They'd retrieve James.

Sirius slammed his eyes shut, willing the stinging sensation away.

If he'd been captured, he'd be in bad shape.

If they knew who he was, he would be taken to Voldemort and that'd be even worse.

A harsh whisper echoed through his brain then. It chilled every bone in his body.

_James knows about Hermione._


	16. Awake

Many, many thanks to Dave for the incredible beta work. All these chapters in, you'd think he'd stop bitching about the Americanisms but no.

* * *

**Silver**

Awake

* * *

His eyelids felt heavy and his eyes were scratchy.

Physically, Sirius was exhausted. Drained.

Mentally however, he was too aware. His brain wouldn't shut the fuck up.

Insomnia wasn't a choice. It snuck up on you and left you powerless to stop it.

He'd had more than enough experience with it to know that tonight would be one of those nights. Sleep wouldn't come.

He ran tired hands over his eyes, yawning. Beside him, Evans slept. Her slumber deep, occasionally broken by whimpers and murmured words.

Sirius had done what he could. Pulled her into his arms and ran his hands over her hair, as he'd seen James do but it didn't work. Her sleep was still restless.

Maybe it was an emotional thing. In some physical level, the redhead may have known he wasn't James. Or it could've been his touch- wrong in every way that mattered.

He groaned. He'd reached the level of tired that turned him metaphorical. He had to get out.

The Marauder pushed off the bed. His moves carefully slow, so he didn't wake the sleeping witch.

_Sirius, I'm scared._

Bloody words had been playing over and over again in his mind since she'd said them. She'd sounded lost, her voice small and afraid. He'd just held her. Heart pounding and eyes watering, he hadn't been able to say shit and he'd known he had failed James.

Prongs had asked him to watch after her and so far, he was doing a crap job of it.

He hadn't known what to say though. All he'd been able to do was pull her against him and let her cry herself to sleep.

Sirius studied Evans as she slept, willing the door open as he accio'd the black coat off the floor. A final glance and he walked out the door, no destination in mind. He just knew he had to leave. The house made him feel claustrophobic, the late night hour made him feel alone.

With James in mind, he found himself back in Godric's Hollow.

The looming facade of Potter Hall stared him down. Its vast doors taunting him, daring him to come in. To go inside and tell Mrs Potter that Jamie was missing. To tell Mr Potter that they didn't know the whereabouts of his dearly loved son.

He wouldn't need to say anything beyond that. He'd see it in their eyes. The realisation that James could be dead.

His chest felt tight, blood pounded in his ears and then he was running. Running fast and hard, away from the manor house.

_James could be dead._

He ran into the woods, the very trees he'd spent countless summers climbing and flying over.

_You'll live here._

_I don't have to. Uncle Alphard left me a place and gold._

_I didn't fucking ask Padfoot._

The gardens blurred past him. The wards didn't register.

One foot in front of the other as his lungs burned for oxygen, a stitch in his side demanding he stop. His feet slipped, his trainers slick against the wet cobblestone.

The Marauder slammed against the nearest wall, gasping. His head throbbed, eyes stinging.

Sirius didn't think as his fist raised and pounded into the wall. Blow after blow struck the building. His ragged breaths loud in his ears, broken only by the sound of his flesh on stone. A crack, a welcomed pain. A distraction. More. Again and again until blood trickled down his hand.

He fell to his knees panting. Limbs shaking, sweat running down his spine. The night air cooling his heated skin.

_You're a bloody drama queen Sirius._

He choked back a sob. Eyes wet and burning he took deep, gasping breaths.

Dark, red blood dripped from his fingers, pooling in a dip on the stone and mixing with dirt. Dark, muddy blood. _Mudblood._

A laugh bubbled up his throat, his chest hurting from the force of it. A dog howled in the distance- chuckling, he howled back.

_You're named after the Dog Star and your animagus is a dog. What the fuck?_

Another bark of laughter, devoid of humour as stinging tears ran down his face. The laughter stopped and he raised his hands to wipe them away.

A flash of red. Bloodied knuckles and broken skin. Exposed bone and pain.

The Marauder pulled out his wand and ran it over the wounds.

'Episkey.'

A bone shifted and he smothered a groan with tightly closed lips. His eyes slammed shut as a dull crack rang out and a shock of pain raced up his arm. Skin mended and closed.

Sirius stood, running his hands down his face. Wiping away the moisture and sweat form his eyes. He looked around, the cemetery and St. Andrew's stood on his left.

He'd reached the middle of the village.

Trembling fingers reached for his fags. Heavy footsteps guided him towards Batty's home.

Fabian watched him from under the tree. Wide eyes followed his every move, he stood as Sirius approached. The scent of fear mixed with the smell of rain. A flick of a wrist and a raised wand.

'How did we meet?'

Sirius exhaled, his words forming around a cloud of smoke. 'You need a wank mate, all that tension can't be good for you. I thought I was talking to your brother. Hadn't met you yet.'

'What are you doing here Sirius?'

The Marauder shrugged. His shoulders stiff and body tense as he fought the impulse to snap at the ginger. It was a stupid question and judging by the sheepish look on the bloke's face, he knew it.

Fabian looked away, eyes scanning the empty street. 'Who needs sleep eh?'

'It's for the weak.'

He dipped his head, raising his fag to his lips. Sirius could feel the stocky wizard watching him.

'Mate, are you al-'

A deep inhale and exhale. 'It's been a while since I was here this late. Forgot how quiet it is.'

Silence, thick and heavy. His hands shook and his head was aching. He took out his flask and took a drink. The silver metal flashed in the moonlight.

'That goblin made?'

Sirius shrugged. 'I don't know, it was my uncle's. Knowing him, it probably is. Has the family crest on it so yeah, most likely.' He put away the flask. 'I'd offer you some but you're on the job.'

'You'll owe me a drink.'

'Anytime mate.'

More silence. Fabian was looking at him again and he bit down on his back teeth. The bloke was pissing him off. Mates or not, he didn't feel like talking about whatever the fuck Fabian had in mind.

He was fine.

Everything was good.

James was only missing. It didn't mean anything.

It couldn't mean anything.

Another inhale.

'Si-'

The sound of a creaking door interrupted Fabian. A flick of his wrist and his wand fell into his hand. The stocky wizard moved, blue eyes trained behind him as Sirius looked in the opposite direction.

The breeze shifted and a familiar scent reached him.

He turned back around to stare at the red door. Before his eyes found her, he'd called out.

'Hermione?'

'Granger?'

Both wizards spoke at the same time, both equally surprised when she stepped out onto the porch. A sheepish smile on her face, surprised eyes on Sirius.

Her mouth opened but before she could say anything, Fabian cut her off.

'Hermione?' he said, stepping forward. 'Everything alright?'

The witch looked away from him, dark eyes on the shorter wizard. She nodded.

'Yeah, I-I couldn't sleep,' she stammered, looking guilty for some damn reason. 'I know I shouldn't be out here at this hour alone or at all in fact but- um, well see thing is I was kin-,'

Sirius shook his head, exhaling. 'Granger for fuck's sake, just spit it out.'

The witch stopped and glared at him. 'I wasn't talking to you,' she snapped and he smirked. It only seemed to irritate her further. Suspicious eyes moved between him and the ginger before she took a step back into the house, taking refuge in its shadows. 'Why are you here? Is something wrong?'

'No,' both wizards answered at once and she frowned.

Sirius threw away his fag, vanishing it before it hit the floor. He took a step forward, shaking his head. Grey eyes focused on her anxious ones.

'Nothing that concerns you,' he said not unkindly. The words bitter in his mouth from the truth of it.

The disappearance of James Potter didn't matter to anyone with the exception of those who loved him. Yes he could easily tell Hermione about his best mate's disappearance but she wouldn't care. For all her insistence that she was with them at school, he knew it was bollocks.

Hermione didn't know James. Nor would she care that he was missing. Letting her know was pointless and would serve no purpose beyond her pitying him.

Granger stepped out of the house again, her eyes studying his face.

'Okay,' she said, her voice unsure and disbelieving. She knew he was lying but for whatever reason, the witch didn't press the issue.

The pair studied each other, the sound of Fabian clearing his throat made them turn.

Blue eyes watched him closely before turning towards the witch. Sirius blinked, wondering what that look was about.

'You wanted to walk?' Fabian asked.

The Marauder turned in time to see Hermione nodding. 'Yeah, I can't sleep and it's too hot and stuffy in there. I just- I really fancy a walk. If- if that's alright?'

Fabian looked to him, a ginger eyebrow raised. _What'd you think?_

Sirius raised his own eyebrow back at him, letting him know he understood his meaning perfectly. He looked to Granger.

'No. Get your arse back inside.'

The witch glared as the stocky wizard groaned out. '_Mate._'

'I wasn't asking you was I?'

He shrugged. 'Doesn't matter, go back inside. It's too damn late to be walking around.'

'You don't have a say in this Sirius. This isn't even your shift and you sure as hell shouldn't be here. So either shut your mouth or go away.'

He couldn't help it, he laughed. An annoyed Granger was equal parts entertaining and fascinating.

'You're rude today Granger,' he chuckled. 'Not a morning person?'

'Oh shut up.'

Sirius grinned at her. Fabian was watching him again and he looked to the bloke. Sure enough, blue eyes were moving between him and the witch again.

He frowned. 'Alright?'

Fabian nodded slowly, studying his face. It was odd, he felt guilty for some odd reason. He looked down and away. The way the shorter wizard was looking at him... it was almost like he was doing something wrong. He didn't understand it.

The ginger turned to Granger and gave her a tight lipped smile. 'So! How about that walk? Between the pair of us, I think it's doable.'

The Marauder looked up at that. 'Oi! I never said I'd come along. If she fancies a walk you can take her.'

'Nah mate, you're coming. I think it'll make things interesting. Plus, it'll help clear up a few things for me. Put me more at ease.'

There was something in the way he'd phrased that that bothered him but he didn't know what or why. Fabian was acting weird.

'Like what?' he asked, grey eyes watching him closely.

Fabian shrugged, an eyebrow raised. Blue eyes focused on his own. 'The village,' he said. _Lied._ 'I've never seen it all. Figured I should know the layout of it by now.'

Hermione spoke, drawing in their attention. 'You- I'm sorry but who are you? Are you Fabian or Gideon?'

The wizard smiled. 'Fabian.'

She blushed, looking sheepish. 'Sorry. I can't tell you apart.'

'No one can Granger don't feel bad.'

The twin nodded, huffing a laugh. 'He's right. Only our mum can and even then we try our best to confuse her. We succeed sometimes. Give you a hint, if you see me being civil with this tosser then it's me. If I look like I want to deck him then it's my brother.'

The witch smiled and amusement danced in her eyes. 'Imagine that,' she said with an arch of her eyebrow. 'Someone wanting to punch Sirius Black in his mouth.'

'Hard to believe eh?' he deadpanned, making them snicker.

Fabian gestured to the witch with a nod of his head. 'Lead the way.'

Sirius took guard behind them. Fabian at her side, her hand on the crook of his arm. Their hushed conversation loud to his ears.

'How've you been Hermione?'

'Good,' she answered him. 'You?'

'I've been good. Actually, I've wanted to talk to you for some time now. Listen... about the last time we spoke...'

The witch shushed him with a backwards glance, making him to frown. His eyebrows shot upwards when she asked to borrow his wand, grey eyes widened when the bloke actually did without as so much a question.

It took Granger a few tries to do what she wanted to do and even then she failed. Or at least he suspected she had, he stopped paying attention the second an irritating buzz started to ring in his ears.

They kept walking.

She led them away from the shops, towards the outskirts of the village where more houses stood. He walked behind them, letting them talk as he took in their surroundings, wand in hand.

The last time he'd done this, Granger had been skittish and had held on to Batty like her life depended on it. If what she'd told him was true and if she did indeed know things then he couldn't really blame her. Now though, there was a huge difference in the way she carried herself.

The witch he'd met had been scared of eye contact and refused to talk. The person she'd become walked straighter and independently, head held high and she didn't hide away from meeting anyone's eyes. Granger didn't shy away from challenges either, he thought with a smirk. Bloody witch was fearless when he least expected it. Her eyes shone and she cracked and vibrated with raw energy when crossed. The witch didn't take anyone's shit. She had fire and bollocks to match.

He liked that.

Granger laughed and his lips curved at the sound. She had a nice laugh.

Grey eyes turned to slits, watching the pair.

She was laughing. A lot. Fabian looked bloody pleased with himself. Alright that was a lie, he couldn't see his face, only the back of the bloke's head but he was walking funny. Son of a bitch was damn near strutting.

He walked up to them and stood on the other side of her.

'What are you two talking about?' he asked, eyeing the pair with barely held suspicion. 'I can hear her cackling from a mile away.'

The witch laughed. 'He was telling me about him and his brother. Go away.'

'Fuck you Granger,' he said without malice. Sparkling eyes met his own and she grinned at him. His shoulders relaxed and the tension he'd held melted away but quickly returned when Fabian opened his bloody mouth.

Bloke was watching him again. 'You should go back to trailing us Sirius. You know? The usual protocol?'

He did yeah. Just as much as he knew that he didn't want to go back there. 'I'd rather not be a third wheel if you don't mind.'

Fabian shook his head, eyes hard giving him pause. 'It's my mission to make sure nobody hurts her Sirius. Back off.'

The sense of dread built. He nodded at the ginger, letting them walk ahead of him as he took his place in the back.

Something was definitely off with the bloke... had he asked him a security question back? He didn't remember. What with Jam- Sirius slammed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Trembling hands reached into his trouser pocket in search of his fags. Ahead of him Granger's tinkling laugh broke the silence. Soon followed by Fabian's idiotic one. He lit his cigarette with the tip of his wand, a deep inhale and eyes trained on the short wizard.

_What's he playing at?_

He'd been acting funny since the moment he got here. It almost seemed like he didn't want him here. That made no sense though cos he'd been acting fine up until Granger had sauntered out her door.

Hermione laughed again as Fabian watched on, a proud grin on him. Sirius frowned, realisation dawning on him and he fought the urge to laugh.

'Oh, that's fucking rich,' he chuckled to himself.

Fabian fancied Granger.

He almost felt bad for him. Poor sod didn't stand a chance. Don't get him wrong, the bloke was decent but he wasn't good enough for her. They weren't even in the same league. Granger was all books and theory and intelligent conversations. Fabian was all action and movements. Intellectually, he wouldn't stimulate her. Physically, who knew? Maybe she had a thing for short, freckly and pale.

And soulless. Cos he was a ginger. On the plus side, she'd never have to worry about Dementors attacking him.

The pair stopped walking and he kept moving, catching up with them.

'What?' he said, staring at the grinning redhead. He looked like a fucking idiot.

'I've gotta piss.'

Sirius grimaced. 'That's fucking disgusting mate. We don't need to hear that.'

The stocky wizard grinned and winked at Hermione. 'Tell that to my sister.'

She giggled and Sirius scowled. Why the fuck was she laughing? He shook his head, taking a drag of his smoke. 'That's not even funny,' he said to Fabian's retreating back. Grey eyes sought out Granger. 'That's not funny. Why the fuck are you laughing?'

Hermione shrugged, smiling at him as he rubbed at his ear. The buzzing had finally stopped, thank fuck.

It'd gone quiet again. He looked down at his dirty trainers. He raised his fag to his lips as he shifted on the spot.

Round eyes, the colour of whisky stared up at him and he fought the urge to ask her what the fuck she was looking at.

An exhale and silence. His back itched, he ached to fucking move. Really, they shouldn't have been stood out here this long. Yes, it was Godric's Hollow and fuck all ever happened but it still wasn't safe to linger about.

'Sirius what's wrong?'

He was almost grateful for the noise. He was both relieved and angered by her interruption. He had to bite down on the back of his teeth to stop himself form snapping at her.

'I already told you Granger. It's nothing.'

The witch looked away when he finally turned to her.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright in the moonlight. Her creamy skin, ethereal and glowing. A breeze blew and her fringe and hair danced. Her clean scent didn't reach him though. The cool air had taken it away from him, pushed it another direction. He felt cheated by the loss.

Sirius saw her shiver before she took in a rattling breath. Her arms crossed across her chest and he didn't think.

The Marauder took off his coat, handing it to her. The look on her face was almost worth this shit walk. She hadn't been expecting it of him, he hadn't either come to think of it but she was cold. What else was he supposed to do?

He'd sworn to take care of her, so he would. Besides, he wasn't really cold. A higher than average body heat was just another plus to being an animagus.

Granger didn't take it though and he glared. Fucking witch wouldn't know what nice was if it bit her in the arse. He chucked his fag and moved behind her. Her fresh scent washed over him as he put the coat on her shoulders. She didn't need much encouragement after that.

Her arms moved. Slender hands moved into the sleeves and the witch snuggled into his coat, still warm from his body heat. Her neck slowly craned, knowing eyes looked up at him. His gaze dropped to her lips as she spoke. Her voice barely above a whisper.

'I think you're lying to me.'

He shook his head, pale eyes roaming her face.

_Definitely too good for Fabian._

He lowered his head, his lips a hairsbreadth away from her ear. 'I promised I'd protect you Hermione. If there's ever something you need to know, I'll tell you.'

_You're a fucking liar mate. I don't understand how women fall for your shit._

He slammed his eyes shut, his breathing ragged.

'Sirius?'

His eyes shot open and were met with her warm ones.

'Are you okay?' she asked him. Her voice soft and low.

He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, heart pounding as she studied him with worried eyes.

_James knows about you._

A shaky nod. 'Y-yeah.'

Granger moved, turned around to face him and a rush of cool air moved between them, replacing her heat and taking away her clean scent. Her lips parted as she shook her head. Before she could say anything however, the sound of someone clearing their throat reached them.

His wand was up in seconds as he pulled Granger close to him. Her arms clutched at his middle.

It was Fabian.

And he looked angry.

The Marauder moved away from her when the ginger's eyes met his own. He felt guilty again, like he was fucking up and he didn't understand it.

'Come on Hermione,' said Fabian, his previous humour all but gone. 'Let's go back.'

The ginger nodded at the direction they'd come from. Hermione moved past them without a word or a glance. Across from him, Fabian continued to stare.

The stocky wizard gave him another weird look before and catching up to Granger, as he trailed behind with a grimace. He rubbed at his ears, that fucking high pitched buzz had returned.

Their walk towards Batty's took less time than their walk away from it. It went unsaid, but it was clear that there was a sudden tension in the air.

The witch was reaching for her key when he stepped next to Fabian. Relief pouring out of him, the buzzing had stopped again.

Granger turned to the door and gave them each a tight-lipped smile.

'Thank you Fabian,' she looked to him then and he wasn't sure, but he thought the smile she gave him was a bit warmer. 'See you in a bit Sirius.'

He nodded. 'Sleep Granger.'

He moved towards his tree as she shut the door and that's when Fabian grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall.

'What the fuck are you doing?' he asked, his voice low and threatening.

Sirius pushed the bloke away from him, glaring.

'What the fuck?!' he hissed.

Fabian stepped away from him, eyes trained on him. 'Back off Sirius. Whatever the hell is going on between you and her, fucking stop it.'

The Marauder frowned, surprised by his harsh tone. 'What the fuck are you on about?'

'Stay away from her Sirius.'

He shook his head. Bloody idiot had lost his damn mind.

'I don't know what the fuck you're on ab-'

'Don't lie. I saw the way you were looking at her and I'm telling you. Back. Off. Hermione is not to be toyed with.'

The Marauder blinked, pale eyes moving from him to the door. The firm set of his jaw, the hard glare, his lips twitched as the answer came to him.

Fabian was _jealous._

He would've laughed if he wasn't so shaken by the bloke's weird moods. Sirius frowned.

No. It didn't make sense.

Fancying Granger was one thing but he looked borderline mad. He'd seen the bloke when he liked someone and this went beyond that. It was more.

Something else was going on here.

Sirius studied the ginger, wondering what the fuck this was about... and then it clicked.

'You know why we're here don't you?'

Fabian was the easy going, level-headed twin. He wasn't prone to overreacting and the way he was acting was too damn telling.

He wouldn't be this way otherwise.

The wizard flexed his fingers, confirming what he suspected.

Fabian definitely knew why they were here.

'Yeah,' he admitted, surprising him. 'I know exactly why we're here guarding her. I know who she is and why she needs to be kept safe and I'm warning you Sirius. Back. Off.'

He didn't know what to say. 'It's not like that.'

'Make sure it isn't.' Fabian looked over his shoulder at the red door before staring him down. He looked like Gideon then.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something else but shook his head instead, looking away. He was so fucking confused. Frustrated. He'd sworn to protect her and he'd do it but fuck's sake, who the hell was she?

The need for answers flared up again.

Fabian ran a pale hand through his red hair. 'You're my mate Sirius. So I'm warning you, don't fuck with Hermione. She's too damn important.'

He walked away then, back to his post as Sirius stood rooted to the spot.

Nothing else was said and he left with a heavy chest and a strained silence. James on the forefront of his mind.

James who'd given him a similar warning on Granger and who was now missing.

It was late, he didn't know the time but it didn't matter. He knew they wouldn't care.

Sirius reached Potter Hall and braced himself as he made his way upstairs and knocked on the elder Potter's bedroom door. Mentally preparing himself to give them the bad news and for the barrage of questions he'd be unable to answer.

The large wooden door swung open and Mrs Potter paused before stumbling backwards, clutching at her nightgown. Mr Potter appeared behind her, a frown on his face. Fury and fear in his eyes.

'Is he dead?'

* * *

Hermione shut the door behind her and nearly jumped when Batty called out.

'Do you have _any _idea how fucking hard it is to sleep when alarm bells are going off in your bloody head?'

The witch moved past the stairs and kitchen into the sitting room.

Laying on the couch with a flannel over her eyes, Batty raised her middle finger at her. In his usual spot was Hooky, mouth open, drooling and snoring.

'That's a bit rude,' she pointed out, watching the older woman. 'And what are you doing up?' Hermione squinted at the clock. 'It's just after four, why aren't you sleeping?'

'Because of you, you daft bitch.'

The brunette frowned at her. 'Why is it my fault you can't sleep?'

'You left the house,' Batty pointed out, pulling off the bit of cloth. 'Think about it.'

She did and then her eyes grew wide before she scowled, insulted. 'There's a tracking charm on me?!'

'Took you long enough. Fucking thing alerts me every time you unexpectedly leave the house. Bloody loud arse blaring noise inside me head!' Batty glared at her. 'It's fucking annoying.'

She almost felt guilty. Almost. She was currently too pissed off to care.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

Batty sat up. 'Oh no you bitch. You don't get to feel insulted. Not when it's my arse who woke up with that shit ringing in my fucking head, terrified that something had happened to you only to find that you'd run off to get some midnight dick! I hope it was worth it!'

Hermione blinked. Damn. Okay, _now_ she felt guilty. 'It wasn't- I'm sorry Batty, I didn't know.'

'It wasn't worth it?' the tiny witch stood. Her green eyes slits. 'Those selfish twats! Didn't you tell'em to lick it before they stick it?'

She felt her face burn almost instantly. 'Batty!'

'If you did and they ignored you, so help me, I will tell their mothers!'

'No!' shouted Hermione. Hands up as she moved towards the older witch. There was zero doubt in her mind that Batty would say something about licking and midnight sex, no matter how off base she was. 'Nothing happened. We just went out for a walk.'

Batty studied her, a smile blooming on her wrinkled lips. Hermione's stomach squirmed. She did not like that look aimed at her. It usually meant bad things for everyone it was directed at.

She took slow, backwards steps. Brown eyes trained on Batty, refusing to look away because she wasn't an idiot. 'You know, I'm a bit tired,' she said, still moving. 'Goodnight.'

'Not so fast love.'

She flinched at the sweet tone. On edge from the current topic of discussion and going by Batty's growing amusement, she knew it too.

'Why so twitchy Hermione?'

'I'm not.' _She was._

'Liar.'

_A fair accusation._ 'Batty, I'm really tire-'

'Was it the lick it bit that's got you all flustered or the implication that it was both of them?'

'Neither,' she answered quickly. Far too quickly in fact. She'd practically shouted her reply at the witch- who was now grinning like she'd found a new favourite game.

Damn witch looked like the Cheshire Cat- except more evil.

Batty tilted her head. 'You're blushing.'

She was. She could feel it right down to her toes. 'Am I?'

'Yeah, you are... the question is _why?_ Who's got you all flustered Hermione?' Her voice was all thick and sweet. Honeyed. The twinkle in her eyes sinister. 'I want to say it's Sirius but it can't be cos your reactions to him are never like this... so it must've been Fabian.'

Hermione shook her head. It really wasn't.

'Is it the red hair? Or was it the blue eyes that did it for you?'

_I love you._

_I love you too._

Bright, blue eyes and soft lips. A curtain of red hair and a shy smile. Whispered confessions. A sharp pain and heat.

_Ron._

Her lower belly clenched as she recalled the dream that'd woken her. The heat between her legs spread, hardening her nipples and sending chills down her spine. Bloody dreams were vivid as hell and far too frequent lately.

Every time she read a letter from lovers, the dreams came. Even if she wasn't thinking about them when she went to bed, she still found herself waking up, her body flushing hot, panting. A dull ache between her legs, begging for release.

As much as she touched herself, it wasn't enough. She couldn't satisfy the urge and need the dreams created in her.

Hermione knew what- _who_ \- she wanted, but it was pointless.

Ron, for all intents and purposes, was dead.

The boy she'd fallen in love with wasn't hers. Would never be hers. There was some solace in the fact that they'd shared something special. Regardless of the circumstance, the memory and physical evidence could never be taken from her.

Her eyes watered and she blinked the tears away as she swallowed thickly.

She'd thought she'd made her peace with that but she was wrong.

Truth was, she'd mourned for him but she hadn't let him go. Not fully, not really. Her dreams were proof of that.

Her time with him had been a short lived reality and to keep thinking on it... Ron wouldn't want this for her, just like she wouldn't want him to spend the rest of his life looking for her.

She had to let him go.

But how could she? She'd loved him long before she'd understood what being in love meant.

Ginny had once asked her why it'd been Ron and not Harry.

It'd seemed such a stupid question that she'd laughed. Fact was, Hermione had spent more time with Ron. Harry had always been running off to save the day, while it'd been Ron who comforted and consoled her.

It was when they were alone that she found him and fell in love.

Really, how could it have been anyone else?

It had always been him and in her dreams, she remembered every detail of their doomed romance. All the glares and smiles. The longing looks and heated arguments.

They'd been dry ice- fire one second, cold chill the next. Always burning.

They'd made no sense and she could acknowledge that, but it hadn't mattered. As flawed and incompatible as they may have been, she couldn't help but think them beautiful.

She loved him. Would always love him... but her Ron was dead.

Her mind and heart however, refused to accept it.

The foolish things didn't want to say goodbye.

'So it _is_ Sirius? _HA!_ I fucking told those old bitches down at the shop. I bloody knew it!' Batty threw the flannel at Hooky who startled awake. 'I told you they wanted to shag. You owe five Galleons.'

The house-elf glared and clicked his fingers. He vanished with a loud, oddly enough angry sounding crack.

Hermione pushed away the ache in her chest, suppressing all thoughts associated with it. Hopeless dreams were just that. There was no use lingering on them.

'What are you talking about?'

Something in her tone must've given her away because Batty turned to look at her, her smile gone.

'What's wrong?'

Hermione shook her head. 'It's nothing that can be helped.'

'Why are you sad?'

That bloody impulse to tell her the truth burned her throat, closing it. She shook her head again, eyes stinging.

'Was it something else?'

She nodded. 'Yeah.'

'The sex thing?'

Batty was watching her too intently and she panicked. Scared of the older witch's line of questioning. Not wanting her to see this part of her- the last bit that was far too raw and exposed.

Hermione didn't think she could talk about Ron, doubted that she would ever be able to. Some things were beyond words. This hollow ache was one of them.

Luckily for her, Batty was an intelligent woman.

The older witch sat down. 'Are you a virgin Hermione?'

The stinging in her eyes returned full force and she took in shaky breaths.

She shook her head.

Batty didn't say anything as Hermione rubbed away the tears from her eyes.

'Is he alive?'

Another slow shake. More traitorous and cunning tears.

'Sit down Hermione.'

She did as told and didn't so much as blink when Batty stood and left the room. Brown eyes were trained on the Mokeskin pouch, forever sat on the coffee table. Constantly taunting Batty.

Mocking her with its silver content.

Batty returned a few seconds later, Firewhisky in one hand, two shot glasses on the other. The witch filled them both and handed her one, raising hers in a toast.

'To love,' she said. 'May it go fuck itself.'

After clinking their glasses together and drinking the shot, Hermione made her way upstairs. Batty let her go without another word.

She didn't turn on her bedroom light or prepare for bed. She was too tired for any of that. Shoes off, Hermione pulled back the covers and lay down.

Turning on her side and with a lift of her head, she saw Fabian's feet sticking out from underneath the tree's canopy.

With the exception of Moody, they hardly bothered with cloaks anymore. No one seemed to notice or care about these blokes who stood under a tree and trailed after her.

Batty had been right. Things happened in Godric's Hollow that were left unsaid.

The brunette rolled away from the window and pulled the covers tighter around her. She yawned as her alarm clock caught her eye. It was close to five in the morning on the second of September, nineteen seventy nine.

Seventeen days before she was born.


	17. Autumn

Thanks to Dave for the wonderful beta work and his stubbornness, without which this chapter wouldn't have happened. The push was definitely needed this time round. Thanks love.

* * *

**Silver**

Autumn

* * *

'You're wrong. It's okay.'

Hermione slammed down her Muggle pen, glaring him down. 'I am _not_ wrong.'

Sirius nodded. 'You are. Transfiguration under those conditions calls for an excess force of magic, which would snap a wand in half. You're forgetting Porillio's theory and ethical clauses.'

'Porillio's theory was never proven and his ethical clauses were a joke. _"No witch should attempt Transfiguration as it may disrupt her natural humours and result in female hysteria!"_ The man was a simpleton with no understanding of ethics.'

The Marauder shrugged, as he continued to cut Valerian Root. 'Agreed. The man was a piece of shit but from what I remember, that doesn't mean he was wrong. Not about this. Cos he's not. There's actual proof to back up his theory.'

'That floating water thing does not count,' she hissed.

'Why? Because you bloody say it doesn't?'

'Because it makes no sense! Everything that man said was circumstantial.'

He put down his blade and turned to her. 'Okay, see, now I can't take you seriously. If you're just going to push away _facts_ just because you don't like them, then this discussion is fucking pointless.'

'This _discussion_ became pointless the second you mentioned that sexist idiot!'

From opposite ends of the table, they glared at each other. His lips twitched and she felt hers do the same.

Hermione sniffed, looking down at the list in her hand. 'I'm still not wrong.'

Sirius chuckled and her lips curled. 'I've never met anyone as stubborn as you Granger. Honestly and I've met some pretty fucking stubborn people in my life.'

She had no answer to that. It was true. She had a bit of an issue with her pride. Especially when it came to academic discussions.

'Robert Daniels,' she murmured under her breath, scanning for his name.

She found him and sighed.

Robert Daniels, deceased four months, natural causes- there was some comfort in that.

Hermione added his letter to the pile that would require immediate delivery. With any luck, it'd be delivered by a Hogwarts' owl with a letter informing his loved one that he'd passed. She moved on, reached for another letter and tore it open.

_Mark, hello you wank. I'm still alive. I'm alright. Feed my dog, don't touch my shit. Jenny x_

At the bottom of the letter was a magical drawing of a man fondling himself. An arrow pointing at it stated it was You. Hermione turned over the parchment and read the name. She found Jenny Trent in the Isle of Wight, alive and well.

She was reaching for another letter when he spoke.

'You know who was a real dickhead?'

'Who?' she asked him.

'Fillmore Fisist.'

Hermione nodded. 'Absolutely. That man was a magnificent moron. _"The cubic weight must be less or equal to the force used or magical injuries may occur."_'

'Or my personal favourite, _"Pronunciation is not important."_' Sirius scoffed, shaking his head.

A giggle bubbled up her throat but she didn't say anything else. She glanced up at him through her fringe before tearing open the letter. Tina Harris from Rugeley. Dated a week ago.

_My dearest Tim, I miss you. I'm miserable without you. It's pretty enough here in Shrewsbury, bit dull though as it's just kinda there. Nothing exciting or worth note. The Order bloke who brought me here, Benny or something said it's only temporary and that I'll be moved somewhere near the north York moors..._

Tina Harris from Rugeley, currently ... alive and in Hutton-le-Hole, was a bloody idiot. She wrote the woman's name down on a separate sheet of parchment, which held about fifty names. Hermione cleared her throat, holding the letter up between her fingers.

'Sirius?' A ripple of magic and the post vanished. 'Thank you.'

'What'd it say?' he asked as her gaze moved over him, studying him.

Hermione pursed her lips before looking back down and reaching for yet another letter. 'She gave Order safe house locations and the name of an Order member.'

'Stupid bitch.'

She nodded but didn't say anything, watching him again and quickly looking away before he caught her. Within seconds he spoke again.

'I'm gonna turn on some music alright?'

Before she could answer, he'd already moved away from the potions and had begun turning the radio's knobs. He stopped when a familiar melody began. She raised an eyebrow as he began to sing and he glared, raising two fingers at her.

Hermione smiled, shaking her head as he sung to his momma that life had just begun and that he'd thrown it all away. She couldn't stop her laughter as he sang the chorus. All too soon her show ended and she slow clapped it out. Sirius bowed, looking proud of himself as he smiled his first real smile in days.

'I love that fucking song,' he stated and she nodded, still laughing.

'It's a brilliant song yeah.'

When the next song came on, he groaned and quickly moved to change the station.

'No! Don't,' she said laughing. 'I like this one.'

The Marauder stopped in his tracks and turned back to her. He looked disgusted. 'Is your heart set on me Granger?'

'Definitely,' she laughed harder. 'You're the one that I want.'

'I better shape up.'

Her stomach hurt by the time the song was over. Sirius singing was an altogether unique experience. When she looked up at him, after wiping her eyes, she caught him staring at her. His smile sincere and pale eyes twinkling.

She giggled. 'What?'

Sirius shook his head before looking away. His smile fell when a special bulletin came on and her gut clenched.

It'd been eight days since their midnight stroll and Sirius had yet to shrug off whatever it was that was bothering him.

He hadn't shaved in days and there were dark smudges beneath his red rimmed eyes. He couldn't stand silence and stiffened with every sudden noise.

Hermione watched him as he listened to the news, his body taut and face grim.

'-he grandmother stands behind her granddaughter insisting she could not have murdered her family. She has vowed to find the true culprits and bring them to justice. For now, she has hired a lawyer to defend her granddaughter. We will bring you more news as it develops.'

Sirius turned off the radio, submerging them in cold and bitter silence.

After several seconds Sirius spoke, saying what she suspected.

'Imperio or Death Eaters.'

'Yeah.'

'He's starting up again.'

Hermione blinked at the letter in her hand, frowning.

The first war peaked in the late seventies and only stopped because of Harry. Which meant, now.

The war was about to get worse.

Death Eater attacks were going to pick up and the Order would experience their first losses, the Prewett twins. Followed by the slow and methodical murders of the Bones family. Random disappearances would increase. Many people would die.

Her stomach twisted in on itself. Bile coated her tongue and her chest felt heavy.

She'd have to talk to Dumbledore as soon as possible.

_What if the Prewetts were already meant to be dead?_

Hermione swallowed thickly. Her panic built. How much had already been inadvertently altered? What had already been changed?

'Granger?' Wide eyes shot upwards. The Marauder met her stare before studying her face. 'Tell Dumbledore that you'll need a wand soon, cos I think shit's about to go from bad to worse.'

She gave him a shaky nod before opening the letter in her hand. Hermione saw the words but they didn't make sense. After reading the same line over and over again she gave up. When she looked up, she found Sirius frowning at the potions before him. They were bubbling, two were now useless and still he didn't react.

'Sirius?'

He jumped, startled and she nearly flinched when wild eyes turned to her. The end of his wand aimed at her heart. It was odd. She was scared at having a wand trained at her, but she wasn't worried about him hurting her. Not anymore.

Realisation was slow to come but she saw it in his eyes when his actions registered. Sirius clenched his jaw and grey eyes grew wider still as he lowered his wand. He opened his mouth to say something but she shook her head, cutting him off.

He was trembling and his breathing was ragged. Hermione itched to say something. To comfort him and fix whatever was going on. She didn't understand the need or the pull but it floored her with its intensity.

It was a startling realisation that shook her to her core, but it was nonetheless true: she wanted to protect him. Soothe him- take away the pain she saw behind his eyes.

But she couldn't do that.

It'd cross some invisible boundary between them and she doubted it'd be welcomed.

Hermione looked away first, blinking as his gaze continued to burn through her. An odd tension in the air, electrifying the space between them.

'Hermione?'

His voice was hoarse but he spoke soft and low. Her resolve softened and she frowned up at him, waiting for him to speak but he said nothing else. He simply stared.

She shook her head, looking away. A crooked smile on her lips, forced as the tension turned awkward.

Again, she was the first to break the silence. 'The potions aren't good anymore.'

Sirius nodded, blinking away whatever it was that had just happened and turning to stare at the bubbling cauldrons. A flick of his wand and the potions vanished.

Hermione licked her lips, shifting in her seat.

'I think that's enough for today,' she said. It was only half five but already it felt like too long a day.

Sirius nodded but didn't say anything else.

The walk back to Batty's was a slow and unrushed affair. Their feet dragged and neither spoke until they bid each other a good night.

'Alright?' asked Batty as they met on the stairs.

Hermione nodded. 'Yeah. Just tired.'

The older witch nodded but didn't press and Hermione was beyond grateful for it. She lay in bed and shut her eyes, Sirius at the forefront of her mind.

Something was going on and it was clearly gutting him. She knew it wasn't to do with her, he'd promised. The only possible answer was the war. The way he'd shut down spoke volumes.

Her belly cramped and she clutched at her mid-section. It was nearing her time of the month but she doubted this had anything to do with that. She was on edge- anxious and she knew it.

Another cramp and Hermione's eyes shot open and she sat up, leant against her headboard. Brown eyes followed Sirius' pacing feet as wisps of smoke trailed after him, his words echoing in her head.

_Shit's going to go from bad to worse._

How did he know? Did he sense it? Or did he feel it? Was it that same nervous energy which had driven him to come out of hiding during fourth year and run to the aide of Harry? She didn't know what drove him, but she understood that impulse to protect.

She wanted to protect him... and that fact was a bit unsettling. The last time she'd felt that particular urge had been with Harry and Ron. Now she was feeling it towards Sirius Black. It was surreal.

Hermione looked away from the window, her eyes automatically drifting over to her calendar. It was the tenth of September. Soon it would be her birthday and though she'd thought nothing of it at first, as the days grew closer to the date her mind had begun working overtime.

She'd read Croaker's diary several times over and nothing had hinted or alluded to the fact that there was a cause for concern. There'd been no mentions of paradoxes or possible complications of having two versions of her co-existing. Whether it meant nothing or something, she didn't know but the doubt was building.

Her belly cramped again.

The war would spike soon- perhaps today had been the beginning. The Prewetts would have to die. If Dumbledore didn't change his mind, their sacrifice would be needed. She'd also need a wand if that were the case- or at least she would if she didn't fade away on her birth date.

Her mind was on overload and she wanted to scream and shout the further her thoughts drifted.

Everything came back to her.

If she hadn't been so damn stupid, this wouldn't have happened. If she'd paid more attention, then she could've avoided the Prewetts getting more involved than necessary. If she'd tried a bit harder then maybe her magic would've been under control by now.

_If, if, if._

That's what her existence consisted of now. Countless scenarios that could amount to nothing in the end because with her here, the future was uncertain.

Even her facts were backed by dangerous consequences.

Yes she could change everything but it didn't guarantee that it'd be for the best. She wasn't Harry, who'd been prophesied to win. As much as she liked to believe that she alone could manage it all, it was a stupid dream.

Harry Potter had been the Chosen One and as ridiculous as the thought of putting stock in prophecies _was,_ it was why he'd won.

It had been Harry who had received the secret lessons from the most powerful wizard of their time. Harry who'd been prepared to fight the most dangerous dark lord in recent history, Harry who had led them and even when they'd all doubted him, Harry who'd had the nerve to hold true to what he knew was right. He had even been right about Malfoy when she'd called him paranoid.

Hermione Granger had been his smart sidekick. To consider herself as the hero of the story was idiotic and nothing more than wishful thinking.

Brown eyes stared at the number nineteen, before looking away. She could fade into the void for all she knew and this, all of this, would be pointless.

Regardless of her indecision, the war would still reach its peak and she was powerless to stop it.

Hermione shut her eyes as her gut ached.

* * *

Sirius had been awake when Remus creeped into James' room.

A sleeping Evans cuddled beside him as he followed the werewolf's form in the darkness. He gently laid her aside before standing and reaching for his shirt. A nod and the pair of them made it across the hall into his room. The second the door was shut, Remus started in on him.

'What the fuck is going on?'

Sirius shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'How long?'

He frowned. 'If we're counting from the end of his mission, close to two weeks. If we're counting from the moment he left, it's been about a month.'

Remus ran scarred hands down his face, before pushing back his fringe. He started pacing the length of the room and Sirius fought the urge to shout at him for it.

'What are we going to do about it?'

He didn't reply because he hated his answer. Remus caught on though and rounded on him.

'What the fuck is wrong with you? That's our best mate missing!'

He bit back the retort that burned to get out.

Remus had just gotten back. By the looks of him, he'd just walked in so the news was newly raw. Whereas he'd had a fortnight to deal with it.

A part of him envied the werewolf.

Remus rubbed at his eyes, before he started pacing again.

'Can you stand still?' he snapped and Moony rounded on him, getting in his face.

'Fuck off Sirius!'

He stood his ground, glaring at the idiot. Unflinching eyes focused on the amber ones of his friend.

Remus' eyes flashed with thinly veiled anger. 'We have to do something.'

'Like what?!' he snapped. 'It's been _weeks._ No one knows anything. Mr Potter couldn't get shit out of Dumbledore. _Mrs Potter_ couldn't get answers out of Dumbledore. What the fuck was _I_ supposed to do?'

'You should've looked for him!'

'I couldn't,' he snarled, eyes blazing. 'I had my own mission.'

'You were here and you knew he was missing, you could've searched for him... Did you even try?!'

His gut ached and his chest heaved.

No. He hadn't.

He'd done as the Potters had asked and let them handle it. It'd been hard and all throughout he'd hated himself for being so damn passive and doing nothing, but they'd asked him to leave it and he'd relented. Now here he was, at the end of his best mate's glare as he said the very things he'd been thinking.

'You should've done more.'

Remus' accusation slammed into him, blood rushed in his ears and his throat burned.

He was right. He should have.

Remus stared him down before he began pacing again. His long strides pointless, his anger useless.

'I should've been here,' he muttered, fists clenched.

'It wouldn't have made a difference.'

'I would've fucking tried' shouted Remus, rounding on him. 'I wouldn't have sat on my arse like you!'

'Fuck you Remus! I did what I promised I'd do, which was more than you!'

Amber eyes flashed as the werewolf stalked towards him as his rage filled the room. The look on Remus' face sent chills down his spine and put him on edge, but he didn't react.

This was Remus and he'd just found out James was missing. He was scared and whenever Moony was scared, he lashed out.

The tall Marauder reached him and punched the wall near his head.

The wall behind him shook. He heard debris clutter to the floor when Remus moved his hand back, breathing heavily.

They glared at each other and he was the first to look away. Sirius shook his head as Moony stepped away, bed creaking as he sat on it.

'Where's Pete?'

'I don't know.'

'And Lily?'

He sighed. 'She hardly eats. She's taken a few missions but Moody hasn't given her anything serious.'

It was a non-answer and they both knew it. Truth was, Evans was doing just as well as him. Perhaps even worse. Knowing Remus, he suspected as much.

Moony nodded and said nothing else.

Companionable silence built between them, each stuck in their own head. Before he knew it, the sun had rose and he stood with aching legs and hot, scratchy eyes.

'I've got to go.'

Remus blinked up at him, watching as he pushed his chair back under the desk. 'How's Hermione?'

He shrugged. 'She's alright.'

'I'll ask for easy missions and help you with Lily.'

Sirius nodded, heading for the door. 'Sleep and shower mate. You look like shit and smell twice as bad.'

'And yet, I still look better than you.'

He flipped him off before walking out the door and heading upstairs to his room. The image that stared back at him looked worse than Remus had implied.

He couldn't sleep, he wasn't hungry and it showed.

His face was thinner and his eyes were dull. He looked shit and he knew it but he didn't care.

Within the hour, he was back in Godric's Hollow and waiting on Granger. The time passed in a daze. Their usual routine a monotonous distraction that served its purpose until Granger started her staring. He ignored it as he usually did but by midday he'd had enough. He snapped.

'Granger!'

The witch flinched, cheeks pink and eyes wide as she looked away from him.

'W-hat?' she stammered.

'Stop. _Staring,'_ he growled at her.

'I'm not!' she defended, her cheeks flushing red hot. Grey eyes turned to slits as he glared at her.

'You are,' he spat. 'You _always_ are.'

The witch shook her head, hair bouncing, not looking up at him. 'I wasn't staring.'

He bit back his retort because she was full of shit and they both bloody well knew it.

Sirius had caught her watching him a few times now. He'd thought he was imagining it at first but as the days passed, he'd come to realise that it wasn't all in his head. Granger had developed a staring problem and it'd gotten old fast.

He glared at her as she hastily opened a letter and began to read, her face hidden by her bushy hair. He flicked a hand at the radio and only looked away once the music began to play.

Before long she was staring again.

'Granger,' he snarled, eyes snapping to her. 'Stop it!'

Unfortunately for her, he'd caught her in the act so she had no excuse this time.

Her mouth opened and shut as her blush spread down her neck and chest. He followed its path before quickly looking away. He shook his head, glaring at her.

'What the fuck is your problem?'

She didn't answer him and his anger flared.

'Answer me!' he demanded, slamming a fist against the table and making her flinch.

'I wasn't staring,' she said, weary eyes watching him. 'And stop yelling at me.'

He ignored her. 'You were. I saw you.'

Granger shook her head again as he stared her down. 'I wasn't-'

'You were. Stop fucking lying!'

_'I'm_ lying?' she snapped. 'All you've done these past few days is lie! Telling me nothing is wrong but looking like everything is.'

'Shut the fuck up Granger.'

'No,' she spat. 'You're lying about something and I don't like it.'

He sneered. 'Doesn't feel good does it?'

She blinked and didn't move, face stoic as he sniffed and returned to his potions.

His anger didn't ebb- it fuelled his annoyance and spiked his frustrations. He slammed down the vial he'd been holding, groaning when it shattered and shards of glass embedded themselves into his flesh.

His hand shook and trembled and all he saw was red. Blood pooled on his palm and dripped down his fingers, staining the work table before him.

_Blood. Pain. A wall. Running. James is missing._

He took in ragged breaths as he reached for his wand. Wide eyes stared at his wounded fingers, mind drawing a blank as thin, spiderlike streams of blood ran down his hand.

He swallowed thickly, chest aching, head throbbing- small hands reached out to him and he blinked up at Granger. Her lips moved, he saw them move but... he didn't understand.

Grey eyes returned to his injured hand, to his wand- trying to think.

'-ius...?'

He frowned at the trail of blood that'd run down his wrist.

A smaller hand encircled his own. His wand slipped through his grip and moved before him, over his hand.

Warmth spread through his fingers, tingling rippled vibrated across his palm and he blinked as the blood vanished.

Grey eyes looked up and he swallowed thickly a Granger's presence registered. She was stood before him, looking up at him. Brown eyes, wide as her lips parted and studied his face.

He shook his head and opened his mouth, but words failed him the second she moved.

Granger's arms went around him and his breath hitched.

He blinked, frowning down at the witch pressed against him. Slender arms around his waist, her face against his chest, head under his chin. Her scent filling him.

'Granger,' he muttered and the witch shook her head.

He wanted to ask her what she was doing and why, but the words didn't reach his lips. He should've pushed her away but he didn't.

Sirius shut his eyes and inhaled slowly, deeply. His shoulders dropped, his racing heart slowed and all he was aware of was Granger.

Her heat against his body. Her soft curves. Her gentle presence. His whole focus was her.

He hesitated before lifting his arms. Sirius swallowed thickly as he pulled her against him and thought twice before resting his chin on her head. His eyes fell shut and he breathed in deeply as she snuggled in, taking comfort in her embrace.


	18. Sight

This chapter took it's time evolving and none of it would have happened without my wonderful beta. Thanks Dave.

* * *

**Silver**

Sight

* * *

She was the first to pull away.

Eyes downcast, a blush staining her cheeks and pink lips parted, Granger's grip loosened as her arms fell away.

He didn't move. Couldn't move. Confusion settling over him as he struggled to understand what had just happened.

Granger had hugged him. And he'd let her - returned it actually. Silver eyes moved over her smiling face as she continued to watch the floor between them. Sirius could taste her awkwardness, it was coming off her in waves as she realised what she'd done.

Before he could stop himself, the inevitable question escaped. 'Why?'

Granger stiffened before shuffling her feet. Brown eyes moved upwards, watching him from beneath her fringe. His heart pounded against his chest as his throat locked.

'Because it looked like you needed a friend,' she said quietly.

She smiled again. That same awkward side smile at the floor before she moved away, across the room and back to her space.

Sirius was rooted to the spot. Unable to look away as the witch fiddled with a letter. Her cheeks were still rosy as she stared at the post.

He looked away.

The room was heavy with strained silence and neither made a move to leave. It wasn't time yet but the need to flee was potent because acknowledging what had just happened seemed dangerous somehow. Ignoring it seemed the best option.

He cleared his throat and looked at everything but her, completely ignoring her side of the room.

_It looked like you needed a friend._

Was that what they were? Had they become friends despite everything?

It felt like it. Weirdly, he was okay with that.

The Marauder blinked, a jolt of surprise shot through him and a flash of heat raced down his spine as he caught himself. He'd been staring at her. Was still staring in fact. Oddly enough, he couldn't force himself to look away.

_She's lovely._

Sirius tore his eyes away from her, frowning, ignoring his_ reaction_.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. The paced drumming muting everything but his thoughts.

He'd called her lovely. And he was semi-hard.

Sirius swallowed thickly as Granger looked up, meeting his eyes. He'd been staring at her again.

Flushed cheeks, bright eyes and an awkward smile pulled at her lips. Mad curls framed her face and he felt his own respond in kind.

Granger cleared her throat as she began straightening the letters. Someone had to say something. The silence was getting to him. Still, he kept staring.

'Think we're done for the day,' she said to the post.

Sirius nodded, grey eyes focused on her.

'Tony will be back soon,' she said, her cheeks stained pink. 'Technically, he was going to be back by the end of August but he couldn't leave Rosa and the baby. They named her Isabella Margaret after their mums but he'll be back sometime in the next few weeks.'

She was rambling and he fought down a smile as her face flushed.

'We should leave.'

He nodded.

A flick of his wrist and his tools straightened. Her letters shuffled into neat piles as his potion ingredients flew across the room.

'Damn,' he muttered as two vials crashed into the wall and broke.

'How do you do that? Concentrate your magic like that?'

Sirius turned frustrated eyes onto the petite witch. 'I don't know.' He waved his hand and the vial shards vanished. 'I've always been able to do it. For as long as I can remember, I could just do it.'

Silence creeped up on them again, enhancing the discomfort and making that which they were trying to avoid, more obvious.

They'd hugged.

It wasn't a big deal. Not enough to warrant this level of awkward definitely but the tension between them said otherwise.

He had an erection.

Because of Granger.

It was a bit odd and uncomfortable to admit but that was easily explained away: he hadn't had sex in some time.

So that... it didn't mean anything except that he needed to get laid.

Besides, an erection didn't exactly mean anything. He'd gotten hard once while riding the Knight Bus and it'd hit a bump. It'd been weird as fuck but it happened.

This? With the hug and his dick a bit hard? Same shit.

It didn't mean anything.

Sirius blinked and caught himself staring. Again.

Granger wasn't the usual standard of beauty but she was definitely something. It was impossible to ignore once you realised it.

Eyes the colour of whisky, a bright smile, soft curves and creamy skin. As well as a glorious mane of hair.

There was no denying it. She was stunning.

It wasn't wrong of him to notice either. He was a straight bloke with a working pair and she was beautiful. Appreciating that wasn't a bad thing.

So why did he feel guilty?

'Ready to go?'

He'd been staring again. Fuck. He cleared his throat, eyes darting away from her and searching the room. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, pushing back his fringe.

Why the hell did he feel guilty?

They closed the shop and walked in silence.

A cold chill had settled over the village, random leaves had begun to change. Shades of orange and red just beginning to peek through the clouds.

Their feet dragged. A slow shuffle ensued and though it wasn't uncomfortable, it was definitely strained.

It felt like something needed to be said.

An acknowledgement of what had just happened maybe. He couldn't bring himself to start the conversation though.

It was too difficult a subject to bring up, especially considering that Granger was being weird about it. Really, not bringing it up was best. It was for her sole benefit that he wouldn't.

On the plus side, he wasn't hard anymore.

Eyes focused on his feet, he felt the familiar prickle that came with being watched.

Granger was staring again and this time, he didn't mind it.

His hand prickled and tingled. The memory of his blood and sudden panic muted by the memory of her arms.

He still felt her touch.

It lingered. Burning his skin and marking his wrist with her warmth.

The Animagus pushed that thought away. His gut aching as warning bells fired off in his head.

Sirius didn't understand what the hell was going on. Nothing made sense.

He was confused and judging by her reaction, Granger was too. Talking about it though ... didn't feel right. The thought of her apologising and saying she regretted it made him uncomfortable.

He didn't know what that meant.

Sirius looked up and caught her eyes.

She didn't look away this time. Nor did she try to play it off like she hadn't been staring.

The corner of his lip curled and a laugh threatened to escape when hers did the same.

He stopped walking and the witch did too, stopping two steps ahead of him and turning. The wind caught her hair, making it dance.

Dark eyes sparkled in the setting sun and her smile grew. His own followed in reply.

They were fucking ridiculous.

_Stupid._

'You're fucking weird Granger.'

That did it.

Their laughter mingled. Lighting up their faces and lifting the tension. It wasn't funny. The situation was anything but. Still, it helped.

The smiling witch turned and continued walking. He kept her pace.

Side by side, the pair made their way through the village. Unrushed and unhurried, they may as well have been visitors.

For the first time in a long time, he took in his surroundings without suspicion.

He should've been more cautious and he shouldn't have let his guard down, but he couldn't help it. It'd just happened. His mind was on overload, crowded with thoughts of Granger. Rather than trying to make sense of anything, he took in the village.

Narrowed streets, framed by tall trees and overhanging leaves. A creaky, old bridge and a bubbling brook. An old church and an even older cemetery. Village cottages and the laughter of children as they chased a ball.

All seen through the haze that was her scent and an autumn breeze.

He didn't realise when they'd reached Batty's door but suddenly they had and Granger was there. Stood before the red door, the bright colour a stark contrast to her earthy tones. She smiled and his gut did a very weird thing that while not unpleasant, was very confusing.

Grey eyes roamed her face and he frowned.

Granger's brow furrowed. Her forehead crinkling as her smile dimmed and faded. He didn't like seeing that.

'What's wrong?' she asked. Her voice anxious as her eyes darted to one end of the street to another.

Sirius shook his head, not looking away from her. 'Nothing.'

'Then why are you looking at me weird?'

He blinked and smiled as he gave her a pointed look. That was all it took for her face to flush with colour.

Defiant as fuck all, she didn't run inside though. No. Cos whatever and whoever the hell Hermione Granger was, she sure as shit wasn't a coward.

The witch stared him down and that weird fluttering stirred in him again. Pride burst and bloomed in his chest, filling his every breath.

She was embarrassed. Her cheeks were burning red hot and she looked like she wanted to bolt... but she held firm. Brown eyes lit from within by the threat of a challenge.

'Go on Granger,' he said, taking a taunting step forward. 'Run inside and hide... you know you want to.'

Her fists clenched. He saw them pull at the hem of her long and flowing shirt. Agitation pouring out of her in waves and all directed at him.

It was exciting. Thrilling. _Dangerous._

And he fucking loved it.

She didn't look away. Dark eyes boring into his, trying to glare him into submission. A dainty brow arched as she took a step forward and his gut did that thing again.

She stood on the step to Batty's house. They were only a foot apart, eye to eye.

'You don't scare me,' she said. Her voice quiet and firm.

Everything else faded away as his smirk morphed into a smile.

_So fucking fearless._

A soft chuckle escaped him and an answering giggle met it. He took a step back, nodding at the door behind her.

'Night Granger.'

She gave him a small wave and turned. Her hand gripping the door handle before pushing it open.

Before she went inside she turned, looking at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were bright, a smile gracing her lips and rosy cheeks. His eyes moved down her figure when she looked away. His eyes lingered a bit longer than they should've but he caught himself quickly.

The witch went inside and he moved to his tree. His mind was a confusing ball of mixed thoughts and emotions that he couldn't begin to separate or describe.

They were fine though. Her parting smile said so and though it made no sense, it relieved him. It was weird that he cared when he hadn't before but if they were friends it made sense... right?

Sirius huffed a laugh as he took his seat and pulled out his fags and lighter. He was a fucking moron.

He was over thinking again and he'd long decided that thinking shit through was for idiots.

_Nah._

He preferred the old 'act first and think later' approach. It guaranteed that his initial instincts kicked in and, as had long been established, his instincts were usually right.

The setting sun cast its burning golden light on it. The memory of her smile lingering.

He shouldn't have teased her. It had been a bad idea.

She wasn't a friend. Not really. No matter what he'd thought beforehand, she was first and foremost - a mission.

Sirius was meant to protect Granger, not tease her. It was a job, one he intended to do well. At this point, he knew he wouldn't find out why he was here and though it still bothered him, he'd accepted the fact. Yes, he had to spend time with her on a regular basis. Yes, talking with her wasn't a necessity but all things considered, it'd been inevitable.

You couldn't spend so much time with someone and maintain strict silence. It was unnatural. Damn near impossible.

All that aside, he needed to keep and maintain a professional distance.

The memory of her body pressed against his own flashed through his mind. Of her softness against his own as he _responded_ \- what happened today couldn't happen again.

This wasn't a normal mission by any means.

From the moment they'd met, he and Granger had set the tone for an unconventional mission-turned-friendship.

Sirius clenched his jaw. There was that fucking word again. _Friends._ They were friends.

He frowned.

He couldn't deny it any more. But it was a delicate thing, filled with secrets and suspicion but it didn't change the fact.

Granger was broken. She was a mystery. Her name could be fake for fuck's sake.

She was dangerous. A secret hidden in plain sight.

One's whose life depended on him.

She couldn't be a friend and he shouldn't be thinking of her as such, much less teasing her like he had.

That road led to her being a distraction and they couldn't afford that. Not if she knew things- whatever that meant.

He would have to watch himself around her.

To add to his sudden hyperawareness, he clenched his hand. The very one she'd held- healed- and remembered her eyes as she looked up at him.

Dark orbs burning from within. Life and fire piercing him with their own challenge. Daring him to fuel her embarrassment.

Sirius lit a fag and inhaled deeply, his eyes moving upwards, searching for her window through the fading light and canopy of leaves.

His wrist still tingling with the ghost of her touch.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her hands against her cheeks, damming them.

She hated blushing with all her being. Hated it even more than her overly productive tear ducts.

She cried for everything, it was annoying.

Blushing on the other hand … She rarely ever did but when it did happen, it infuriated her.

Behind the closed door she heard Sirius shuffling away. His boots scraping across the cobbled stone on his merry way to his tree.

Damn him. Damn him hard.

He was an arse. One she refused to back down from because doing so would go against everything she stood for.

She'd never backed down from him. Not in her former life, when he'd been 'older' and she sure as hell wasn't about to start now. And though his teasing was done in good fun and with no harm intended, she wasn't about to let him think he'd had the upper hand.

Challenging him may not have been wise but it was done.

Hermione pushed away from the door and made her way towards the sitting room. Intent on finding Batty and Hooky, they would no doubt be shocked at her coming home earlier than expected and would ask her questions. Most likely they'd be riddled with... heavy innuendos...

The brunette stopped mid step and turned around. Finding Batty was not a priority she realised and had decided to go up to her room when she heard the quiet sob.

Hermione blinked. Frowning as she reached the kitchen. Blinking again when a quiet sniff reached her ears.

She shook her head, positive she'd heard wrong and her chest ached when another sob reached her drumming ears.

A pale hand reached out and she pushed. The kitchen door swung open, revealing a tear stained Batty sat on the kitchen table.

Eyes downcast, she fiddled with her mug as she wiped at her nose. Yet another quiet sob, escaping her lips. She didn't appear to have heard her and her gut clenched.

Batty was crying.

The sight before her made her chest burn and her tummy hurt. Her heartbeat pounded in temple, her ears rushed with sound and dark eyes focused on the utter misery the tiny witch was displaying.

'Batty?'

She'd been startled and Hermione found herself at the end of the historian's wand. The younger witch didn't move. She didn't blink.

Her sole focus, the red rimmed and teary eyes of the powerful witch.

Something akin to dread and pain filled her chest. Quickly followed by paralyzing fear.

'What's wrong?'

Batty blinked several times before lowering her wand and looking away. A hasty hand wiping at her eyes and cheeks as she turned her back.

Hermione had already seen her crying but that didn't seem to matter. Batty was proud. Strong. Any form of weakness on her part wasn't going to be shared. She'd been caught, found in a compromising situation but Hermione knew that it'd been a fluke.

A mistake the older witch wouldn't allow to be repeated and so she wiped away the evidence of her tears.

Hermione swallowed the painful lump that'd formed in her throat. She blinked away the sudden tears that'd inexplicably formed. Her shaking hands curled into fists.

'Batty?'

'It's nothing,' she answered, her voice thick and wavering.

Another painful twist pulled at her belly.

The tiny witch blurred around the edges. Her eyes darted over the room, her mouth opening... something needed to be said. What though?

Demanding answers wasn't an option and truthfully, she had no right. Batty had taken her in, no questions asked. To date, the older witch still hadn't questioned her. Suspicious glances and contemplative silences aside, she'd yet to ask Hermione a single thing.

How could she intrude on the woman's personal business when Batty had gone out of her way to give her space?

She couldn't and she wouldn't dare insult her that way.

So she sat.

It was then that she noticed the three mugs sat on the kitchen table.

Batty's favourite, Hooky's and another.

She'd had a visitor.

_Dumbledore?_

_Was she leaving?_

_Had Batty had enough?_

Her breathing came in rapid gasps. The thought of leaving Godric's Hollow, Batty and Hooky and this place where she knew it was safe ... she couldn't leave. Not now, not when it'd become home. Dumbledore couldn't do this to her.

'-rmione!'

Tear filled eyes shot to the tiny woman who had turned to look at her. Hermione's heart violently pounding against her ribcage, her breathing ragged and loud in her ears.

The curtains were fluttering around her and utensils rattled in the cupboards. Hermione willed her magic down but it was useless. The noises around her dimmed but they didn't stop.

What she saw in the older witch's eyes burned through her and a sob was ripped from her throat. Her shoulders caved in on her and she gasped for breath.

'Are you sending me away?'

Her voice was small and pitiful even to her own ears. She'd heard it but it didn't matter.

Batty shut her eyes and clasped her hands. Head bowed, she turned around and again she saw the older woman wipe at her face.

Batty braced her outstretched arms on the kitchen top and didn't speak for what felt like hours. Days. An eternity.

'Calm down love,' she finally said. Her voice soft and soothing. 'You're not going anywhere. This is your home now. You belong here. If Albus even tried to take you away, he'd have to go through Hooky and me first.'

'Then wh-' she bit down on her tongue, cursing her stupidity.

The words had left her mouth lips before she'd had time to process them and now they lingered in the air between them. Loud and potent, they lay heavy in the air.

Batty moved and took her usual seat. Though her swollen eyes were red rimmed and her face splotchy, her voice was calm. Reassuring and firm.

'This,' she said, waving a flippant hand at her face, 'is from something else entirely and has nothing to do with you.'

The powerful witch flicked two fingers and the mugs moved to the sink.

'A friend's son has gone missing. He works for the Order and disappeared after a mission not long ago. I hadn't known, Phemmy just let me know today... private woman that she is, she'd kept it quiet. She dropped in for a chat. Needed to get things off her chest.'

Her racing heart settled as her breathing eased. The tension coiling inside her twisted and squirmed but didn't leave.

Someone Batty cared for had gone missing. Hermione wasn't foolish enough to think she could make a difference in every aspect of the war but she felt guilty nonetheless.

Realistically, there was no saving everyone. People would die with or without her interference. Death and war went hand in hand. She couldn't save everyone. That she would have been able to stop this- the chances were infinitesimal and yet... her tummy clenched and her chest burned.

'Dumbledore provided them with a name at long last. Kielder. It's not much to go on but it's thereabouts he disappeared. Her husband left days ago in search of Jimmy and Phemmy couldn't take it anymore. She needed to talk.'

Hermione frowned at the table. An odd niggling at the back if her head.

Kielder... She'd heard that name before... years ago...

'How long has he been missing?'

Batty pierced her with a look and she felt properly chastised. 'Sorry.'

The witch shook her head, white hair glinting as it caught the light. 'I shouldn't be telling you this you know. Albus gave me very strict instructions to keep you in the dark. About the war and especially the Order.'

Hermione bowed her head. 'Sorry.'

'Stop apologising.'

She had to stop herself from saying it again.

'He's been missing for about a month I think she said? He'd gone on a stake out or whatever they're called. A Death Eater safe house was suspected to be in the area so he was sent to investigate. He never returned.'

'I'm sorry,' she said. Her words heavy with double meaning. Batty took them at face value.

The powerful witch nodded. 'I am too. He's their only child. They'd wanted a kid for so long ... it never seemed to happen though.' Batty was looking out the window at the fading light. Pale, green eyes distant. Her voice quiet. Hermione doubted the tiny woman even remembered she was there. 'Then it did and they were overjoyed... and now this. It was too much for them to handle and when Albus finally gave them a location, Flea left to find Jimmy and Phemmy was left behind, worrying about them both... that selfish bastard.'

She wasn't sure who Batty was talking about and almost asked. She'd raised her eyes and opened her mouth before catching herself. Batty, of course noticed this.

She raised an eyebrow. 'Go on, ask.'

Hermione licked her lips, changing course. 'Why are you telling me this? Dumbledore said not to.'

Batty huffed a laugh. 'If I'd spent half my life doing what other people told me to do, I'd be a very different person today. I guarantee it.' Batty sat up straighter and once again moved an airy hand, signalling at her face. 'You caught me...'

_Crying._ The word wasn't said but the heavy implication was there. Her hand made a flippant gesture again. 'If you hadn't I wouldn't have said a fucking thing. Trust me on that.'

She did. Hermione believed her fully.

'If you hadn't reacted as you had,' Batty said, waving at the room. 'I especially wouldn't have said shit. But you did and I can't afford to have you stumble. Not when you've come so far. Your magical outbursts are few and far between. Damn near rare nowadays. I couldn't keep you in the dark and scared so yeah...'

'Do you think they'll find him?'

Batty shook her head, a lift of her shoulder.

'I don't know,' she said as she stood, rubbing at her neck. 'Normally, I'd say they had a chance but now... I don't know.'

It'd been too long. The possibilities had grown less and less as time had gone by. Batty didn't need to say it.

His poor parents.

She felt a certain kinship with whoever this Jimmy was.

Hermione had known that her parents would have searched the world over for her too. That they were Muggle didn't matter. If she'd gone missing, they would have done the impossible to find her. It'd been one of the reasons she'd been forced to Obliviate them.

'I do know one thing though, Fleamont will not stop until he finds Jimmy.' Batty said, moving towards the door. She chuckled darkly. 'Merlin help any man or woman intent on stopping a determined Potter. I wouldn't use the word dangerous b-'

Her eyes snapped up. Wide eyes stared at the retreating woman, her breathing ragged as her blood rushed to pound in her ears.

'Potter?' She asked, her voice eerily calm, hiding the storm brewing inside of her. 'That's his surname?'

Batty was half way out the door now. She didn't turn around but she stopped. 'Yeah,' she nodded and when she spoke again, her voice was thick. 'Come to think of it, you may know him. He's good mates with Sirius... James Potter?'

Hermione doesn't know when Batty walked away. She didn't hear anything else that was or may have been said.

She sat for what felt like a lifetime, staring at the table. The stillness and silence surrounding her a lie.

Inside she was screaming.

_James Potter was missing._

Hermione felt the table shake beneath her spread palms. She felt her hair stirring. Above her, the lights flickered as an eerie hum settled over the room.

The sound rang in her ears and vibrated against her bones. She clenched her jaw as her teeth gently rattled. It didn't hurt but the sensation was an odd one.

Her mind was in free fall. She was stumbling and spinning into a dark abyss and she struggled against it. For the second time in her life, her world spun violently on its axis.

Around her, items began to levitate. The hum grew louder. Curtains swirled.

_James Potter was missing._

Her birth date was in a week - six days in fact. She was yet to be born which meant that Harry had yet to be conceived.

And James Potter was missing.

'Kielder,' she whispered.

_Kielder._

She didn't know where that was. But she'd heard the name. Once upon a time, years ago. In her past- a future now in jeopardy.

Because of her.

Because she suddenly remembered and her mouth fell open in shock, a maddening scream stuck in her throat wanting to escape but unable to.

Thick tears streamed down her face, making her cheeks itch.

_I'd been captured once. Village called Kielder. I was tracking a pair of new Death Eaters when one found me. I'd transformed into Padfoot and escaped. Barely fit through the bars but I'd managed. It'd been a pain._

_How long had you been missing?_

_Five hours._

Sirius had been captured. Not James.

Sirius had escaped. Not James.

James Potter was missing and she was the cause.

The table shook violently. The lights dimmed and grew bright in rapid succession. Her hair moved in the supernatural breeze.

Sirius had never been meant to guard her. His role was- had been greater than that and now...

That's what had been plaguing him.

His best friend had gone missing and he'd unknowingly guarded the cause of it.

Sirius had escaped after five hours because he'd managed to squeeze through. A dog could do what a stag couldn't. And so James Potter was captured and caught, unable to escape.

He might be dead.

A sound escaped her throat but it wasn't the scream she wanted so badly to release.

Hermione moved. The need to get away sudden and impatient.

She stood on shaky legs and took dazed steps away from the table, her feet moving with no direction in mind. At the door she turned left.

She saw the sitting room, recognised the area but they felt wrong. Unreal. An imitation of reality. Any familiarity she had felt forced. Foreign.

Like she didn't belong.

Because technically, she didn't.

Her knees buckled and she stumbled onto the nearest seat. Batty's she thought but it didn't matter.

The young witch blinked and found herself staring at her mokeskin pouch.

She was a stranger here. An anomaly that shouldn't have been.

Her presence alone was proof.

_Cause and effect._

Hermione slammed her eyes shut. Her chest burning. Stomach rolling. A painful knot pounding away at her throat.

A sharp pain caught her attention and she looked down at her hands.

A bead had cut into her fists as she'd clenched her purse.

She saw the trickle of blood pool on her palm and she remembered Sirius.

How lost he'd looked. How scared and innocent.

Wide eyes darted to the mokeskin pouch. The silver within it, jarring her memories and mutating her fears.

The damage was done.

It'd been too long.

She swallowed thickly, taking a steadying breath as resolve stirred inside her. Her mind moving, pushing her forward.

James Potter may be dead and if he was then Harry...

The future could be changed. This alone was proof enough and to remain ignorant of the fact was a danger all on its own.

Dumbledore, her mind whispered as she reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope full of letters.

She ran to the nearest desk and wrote her own message. Short and sloppy, the words flew out of her. Like they'd been lurking there all along just waiting for the right time to escape.

Desperation mingled with a burning sense of dread but she kept writing.

She didn't think about right or wrong all she knew was that she had to help. It wasn't much, just a risk- a chance. But this, her worried mind screamed, was the best thing she could do.

He would understand. All she had to do was make him see.

She just hoped she wasn't too late.

She wrote the letter and sealed it. She placed it in the envelope along with the other post and called for Hooky. With any luck, he wouldn't see the difference and her letter would be sent along with the countless others.

When he appeared, his ears dropped. Wide bulbous eyes took in the room around him and though he didn't question her, he was visibly shaken.

'Take the letters and send them,' she ordered. Her voice thick with tears. 'Please.'

Hooky did as told and with a crack was gone.

Dark eyes flit down to the pouch.

Harry's existence was in the air.

She could disappear.

Smooth silver flashed at the forefront of her mind.

Around her, levitating items continued to shake.


	19. Bedlam

This chapter is brought to you by the betaing power of Dave. Dave, cus anyone else ain't worth shit.

* * *

**Silver**

Bedlam

* * *

Hermione's nightmares had changed.

Before she saw Muggle-borns crying out for help, but now they stared at her in mute silence. Their eyes followed her every step, blaming her for the Dark Lord's victory.

Hissing whispers followed her as long, spider-like fingers closed around her shoulders.

She would wake up in the middle of the night, shaking and sweating as tears streaked her face. Sleep evaded her. Her appetite had gone. Every shadow held sinister secrets. Her waking moments were plagued with the memories of her dreams.

All because of a letter.

An error in judgment or a saving grace - she didn't know anymore.

She'd acted without thinking and as the days passed, the lack of a reply had begun to weigh on her more and more.

In trying to help, she may have damned them all.

Factor in that Harry may never be born or that she herself could be unborn... her nerves were shot to hell.

On the night before her birthday, everything came to a head.

'Hermione!'

The brunette's wide eyes shot to the older witch. Lips parted, she blinked at the tiny woman. Tears fell away and caressed her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away.

When had she started crying?

'That's enough,' hissed Batty. 'I am fucking done with this shite! What's wrong?!'

Hermione had moved her head a fraction when Batty stood, finger pointed at her chest. 'Don't fucking lie to me. You've been on fucking egg shells all sodding week. You've lost weight. You don't sleep. Your fucking magic is acting up!'

The powerful witch gestured to the room at large and Hermione slammed her eyes shut after taking in the room.

Candles flared with colourful fire. Objects levitated and shook. Books and bottles rattled against their cases.

She willed them down. To stop shaking and fall still.

It didn't work. She knew it wouldn't.

Her magic was in tune to her feelings. Her mental state. Attached to that part of her which needed calm.

And inside of her there was nothing but chaos.

The young woman stood. Her legs were shaking. She was weak kneed but still, she moved. To her left, she saw Hooky's ears droop as bulbous, blue eyes followed her every step.

Before her, she saw Batty block her escape.

The sitting room was crowded and she needed to get out. The garden behind her was too small. She needed space.

'Please,' she stammered. Begged with a meek and pathetic voice that gave her pause.

She sounded broken. Lost.

She'd heard it.

_Felt_ it.

Batty watched her. Sea foam, green eyes studied her. They moved over her face, down her body and back up to her eyes. She didn't speak, she simply moved aside.

Hermione's pulse pounded. Her gut ached as dread filled her. She was scared to move.

Scared of whatever challenge Batty was putting her on.

The historian's features faded and blended with their surroundings. Hermione blinked and the woman's worried face came into perfect view.

Batty shook her head and turned. 'Come along Rat,' she said, voice quiet. 'Hermione needs to be alone.'

Her chest burned. A hollow ache making it hard to breathe and swallow. She wanted to scream and cry. Yell and sob.

Instead, she wiped away her tears and walked to her room.

She paused outside the closed kitchen door, hearing the sounds of tea being made. A second's hesitation and she moved past, taking the steps with heavy feet.

The darkness of her room was a welcomed change.

No firelight danced. No items shook. Nothing rattled. If they did, the dark of the night hid them perfectly. The only visible light shone through the window.

Hermione sat on her bed, staring at nothing as fear gripped her and fresh tears fell.

Dark eyes moved to her clock. She'd turned it away sometime in the past few days and with more strength than she possessed, she reached over and faced it to her.

It was gone ten p.m. on the eighteenth of September.

She'd been born at two in the morning.

Hermione sat on her bed and watched as the seconds ticked away.

A blink of her eyes and her heart stammered.

01:57.

Her breaths came in rapid gasps. Tears falling fast as she raised her hands, studying them, panic gripping her.

She was real.

She couldn't just... leave. Disappear. Fade.

_Unborn._

No. She was real.

She was.

She was. _She was._

Teary eyes darted back to the clock.

01:57.

Those numbers... they were mocking her. Taking from her the last bit of sanity and peace she had before she disa...

No.

_No!_

Hermione shot up, the door flew open and she ran. Her bare feet pounded against the wooden floor. She ran down the carpeted stairs. The front door opened with a mighty crash, rattling its hinges and shaking the wall.

Hermione ran past the doorway without a backwards glance.

Someone was yelling. People were shouting. There was screaming and noise but she left them all behind her. They didn't matter.

The village blurred past her.

There was a stitch in her side, she couldn't breathe and still she kept running.

Her feet stumbled beneath her, caught on something and she fell.

Hermione made to stand and paused, her whole body shaking as St. Andrew's bell rang the hour.

One chime. And then another.

Wide eyes searched her hands. Panicked hands searched her body. Her body searched itself, waiting for something- anything- to signal the beginning of her end.

'No...' she cried, pleaded. 'No. Please...'

She didn't want to leave. Not like this.

_Alone._

A sound reached her and she looked up. A lit wand. A shadowy figure approached.

Death, she thought and for a second, just one second... she didn't care.

She was tired.

The knowledge of her possible death- of being unborn- had carved itself into her being and re-shaped her soul. Nothing else had mattered as the date grew near.

Everything about her had been stripped away and all that'd remained was the wisdom of her circumstance. Of Harry's endangered existence, her possible death, the cause and effect.

The echoes of the bells were still ringing when the figure stepped into the light.

_Sirius._

He stood apart from her, wand raised as his eyes darted from her to their surroundings.

He cleared his throat and took a cautious step forward. 'Granger?'

His voice sounded strained. Hoarse.

Through thick tears, Hermione watched him. He still wore the day's clothes. He hadn't gone home.

A sob escaped her. She trembled and bowed on the cobblestone street, clutching at herself.

Hermione heard him move and felt rather than saw the moment he took a seat beside her.

She didn't know how long she cried for. The release had been a welcomed and much needed one.

The hard stone beneath her brought her back from that dangerous edge. She was still here. Alive and real.

The church bell rang again.

One... Two... Three...

Another sob was ripped from her throat. Hermione ran trembling hands down her face. She pushed back her fringe and studied her hands.

They were solid. And firm. Cold. Real.

Sirius cleared his throat again and teary eyes turned to him. He looked away before she could meet his gaze.

A cool breeze moved between them and she shivered.

Hermione looked around, frowning.

She'd never been this far out of the village. The end of the street had led her to a wooded area, the pavement beneath her broken by grass and weeds. Sinister trees stood tall and proud before them- the edge of the forest.

Her heart was pounding away in her chest.

Her body was trembling from the cold.

The adrenaline in her system was failing her.

Her eyes burned.

Her head ached.

Hermione smiled. It was brittle and weak, but it was hers.

Sirius moved beside her and she spoke without thinking.

'It's my birth date.'

From the corner of her eye, she saw him look at her before running a hand through his hair.

'How old are you?' he asked her, his voice kind.

_An hour old._ 'Nineteen.'

He nodded. Rubbed his neck. Squirmed in his seat.

Sirius cleared his throat, 'Listen Granger... not to interrupt your midlife crisis or anything ... but my arse is hurting.'

The brunette stared at her hands. Studying their shape, taking in their lines. Seeing their scars. Her scars.

They'd always just been there... She'd never really, truly appreciated them until now.

They were the only proof that she'd lived once upon a time. That the life she recalled on those late nights wasn't a dream.

'Hey.' Dark eyes met soft grey.

A larger, warmer hand reached for her own and held it. 'Come on Granger.'

He pulled her up and she let him. Sirius didn't release her hand. He didn't even try. Neither did she.

His booted feet guided her bare ones and she followed without question. Still, she held his hand. The pressure of their intertwined fingers comforting.

A door creaked. The cold stone beneath her feet turned into cool grass as they moved past an old wooden fence.

Suddenly the night was pierced with bright, colourful lights. Purples, pinks, blues, greens and whites. All luminous and glowing, they shone beneath her feet.

Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.

Sirius murmured behind her and she was suddenly aware of how close he was. His heat warming her even though they weren't touching.

'Happy Birthday Granger.'

'Where are we?' she asked him, just as quietly.

'Blossom Grove,' he answered her. 'It used to be an Order safe house, here in the village. This is its garden. Three guesses why it's called Blossom Grove.'

'It's beautiful.'

The flowers at her feet glowed. Their delicate petals shone from within, exposing every intricate detail. Their stems lit a path, guiding them to a clearing. She took a step and the grass beneath her feet warmed and she gasped as she looked down. Small tendrils of white fire reached up and moved between her toes, tickling her.

Hermione gasped. Behind her, Sirius chuckled.

'It's not real,' he said. Gesturing with their intertwined hands to a rose bush on their left. 'Defence mechanism. It's a-'

'Rose-Fire Bush. Harmless fire meant to scare away any threats. The roses are a rare delicacy. They're noted for their sweet flavour. Costs a fortune.'

Sirius nodded, huffing a laugh. 'Yeah.'

He pulled on her hand, guiding them towards the clearing.

Her every step called up the white fire.

'How far does it go?' she asked, looking back at the green bush with orange roses. Its petals mimicking the shape of fire.

'About... here.'

The second he said it, the tickling sensation stopped.

'How did it get here?'

'Previous owner. From what I've been told, every woman who's ever lived here has planted one plant.'

Hermione turned to the house behind them. The small cottage, simple and nondescript. Her eyes darted from the large garden to its vast collection of greenery, both Muggle and magical.

'Whose house is this?'

'My mate's. Well... his mum's. She offered it up for the Order. It was in use until you arrived. When you came along, Dumbledore shut it down.'

The pair moved through the garden, the bottom too far away to see. Above them, a blanket of stars pierced the night. Beneath them, the garden lit their way.

The Marauder guided them towards an old bench. It was small and spindly. The dark wood looked like it would break from a well placed kick.

Sirius didn't stop and she opened her mouth to protest the second he sat her on it. Only to shut up when the wood shifted beneath her as it expanded to make room for him.

A delicious scent reached her and her eyes fluttered shut in response.

Sirius chuckled again. 'Amore Sagrada. Imitates the scent of whatever you're attracted to.'

'I know,' she whispered. 'It's a key ingredient in Amortentia.'

_Parchment... Freshly mown grass... Toothpaste... Cool leather..._

Hogwarts. Mowing the lawn sat on her granddad's knee. Her mum and dad... the scent she'd related to Ron's keeper gloves.

His scent wasn't as strong as it once was. Once upon a time, it'd dominated the others. Now, it lingered in the background. Proof of her continued existence and a memory of all that she'd lost. She was alive. She should've been grateful and relieved.

Instead, she felt alone.

A heated tear fell from her eyes, cooling against her cheek. Sirius squeezed her fingers and she turned to face him.

His profile was brought into sharp contrast by the combined glow of the plants around them.

His eyes were sunken. He looked tired. Exhausted and sleepy.

'What do you smell?' she asked him. Her tone soft, barely above a whisper lest she disrupted the quiet of the night.

Hermione breathed in deeply, turning tired eyes to the sky. The heat of his hand a reassuring pressure.

* * *

Granger's pale, creamy skin was tinted purple-pink and it glowed. She looked otherworldly. Ethereal. Innocent and vulnerable.

The Marauder breathed in deeply and smiled. He shook his head.

'All I smell is your shampoo Granger. Breeze is blowing. I don't really smell the bush.'

He squeezed her hand, nudging her with his shoulder. 'Go on then. What do you smell?'

The witch shook her head and for a moment, he thought that was the only answer he was going to get.

'Books, grass, toothpaste and leather.'

He arched an eyebrow, looking away from her. 'Odd mix that.'

She hummed in reply, still looking at the stars above. It was beautiful. You didn't get many stars in London. His childhood, for the most part, had been deprived of them. Light pollution, Moony had called it. All that Muggle electricity had ruined the scenery, shaped nature and changed it.

He'd been in awe the first time he'd arrived in Godric's Hollow. Damn near speechless when he'd been shown Blossom Grove.

He'd never been much of a Herbologist but this garden, he could appreciate. As a kid, he used to leave Potter Hall in the middle of night and stay here for a few hours. It'd helped with the insomnia and over the years it'd become a sort of safe haven. Then the war started in earnest and magical gardens hadn't seemed all that important.

Until tonight, when he'd seen Granger crumble in on herself.

It'd been unsettling. He hadn't liked it.

Seeing her like that... it wasn't right.

He squeezed her hand. Shifted in his seat and frowned.

He was still holding her hand.

It was going against his decision to have zero contact between them. Until tonight, he'd stuck to it. He'd maintained a professional distance. He spoke only when spoken to. He hadn't teased her. Hadn't so much as tried for a conversation.

For her part, Granger hadn't noticed.

She'd been odd all week. Distracted and somewhere else. It'd suited him fine. And not once had he wondered or cared why.

It'd only bothered him a bit. Almost nothing really.

No one liked being ignored after all.

It'd been a shit week. Frustrating as fuck all and he'd been waiting for it to be over.

He'd planned to go out for a pint after he left her but then no one showed. He'd figured an attack must've happened somewhere. He wasn't surprised. The air had been charged with tension. An extra something that'd made his skin itch.

He'd been fighting off sleep when Granger stormed out of the house, Batty and their house-elf hot on her heels.

He'd chased after her and watched as she fell to ground. As she grabbed at herself and cried _'no'_ over and over again.

It'd made his chest ache. Made him feel helpless. Fucking useless and... He hadn't liked it. Seeing her like that... It'd hurt.

He didn't understand it. But it had.

It'd torn into him and he'd had to do something.

So he brought her here. To the only place in the while fucking world where he'd found a momentary piece of quiet. Beauty of nature or magically induced, he didn't know and he honestly didn't care. All he knew was that Blossom Grove had always calmed him.

It seemed to be working on her too.

She smiled. It was small and didn't fully form but it looked serene.

She turned to look at him, eyes bright and flushed from tears. The breeze shifted once more and her scent washed over him.

He breathed in deeply and squeezed her hand. Acutely aware of her palm. Of its warmth and softness. Of how perfectly aligned to his it was.

He looked away.

Scowling at a naked, little gnome who'd appeared out of nowhere. Granger snorted and he felt his lips curl. His frown melting away.

Sirius nodded at the cherry blossom tree in the distance. 'There's an Apparation point underneath those hanging branches. Dumbledore made it for the twins and me to use.'

She didn't say anything. So he kept talking.

'You see that cactus? I sat on it once for a dare. A very pretty healer had to pick thorns out my bollocks and arse for hours. It was the most sexually arousing and confusing moment of my life.'

He pointed at the Rose-Fire Bush. 'I had my first kiss next to that damn plant.'

Sirius felt her eyes on him. 'Oh?'

'Yeah,' he said, nodding. 'I was thirteen and this girl, Carla, had been driving me mad for months. Sometime during the school year her mum and dad had gotten divorced and she and her mum were moving. I asked her out, we met in the fountain at midnight and I brought her here. A Muggle girl in a magical garden. I was smooth like that.' Granger huffed a laugh but he ignored it. 'She gave me a goodbye kiss and then she ran. Never saw her again.'

The Marauder leaned back on the bench. He licked his lips, staring at a spot underneath a tall white tree with purple leaves. Pulses of light moving through the tree trunk.

'My mates and I used to sit underneath that tree for hours. Plotting world domination.'

Granger shifted beside him, he could still feel her dark eyes on him. She hummed.

'Well... as much domination as four hormonal teenage boys could. Really it mostly consisted of us thinking up ways to get drunk and laid. Running wild was sort of our thing.'

But then the war kicked off and they'd been forced to grow up far too quickly.

They'd all planned to visit Europe after Hogwarts. Had even planned on visiting Switzerland for Moony. That country was the only one on Earth that gave werewolves equal rights and freedoms. They'd talked of moving there once.

A tour across the world. Live in Switzerland for a bit. Somewhere along the road Jamie and Evans were going to get married. They'd settle in England. Have kids and they'd grow old while he and the other Marauders spoiled the ever loving fuck out of the sprogs.

Voldemort hadn't really factored into that vision.

Reality was a bitch.

And why the fuck was he telling her things? Why was he still holding her hand?

He glared at his boots.

She squeezed his hand.

His eyes shot up and caught her own.

'Keep telling me?' she murmured. Her voice soft, almost a whisper. 'Please?'

He couldn't have denied her even if he'd wanted to.

Sirius settled in. Stretched his legs and waited for the wood to morph itself into the contours of his body.

He smiled. 'What do you want to know?'

'Anything,' she said, getting comfortable.

He talked well into the night. And then he talked some more.

He told her stories about Hogwarts and the Marauders. He didn't mention the fact that if she'd really been at school with him, then she would've known some of them.

That wasn't important though. If anything, it was a minor detail and nothing else.

St. Andrew's bell tolled as the hours ticked by. Twilight gave way to dawn and as the morning rays peaked over the horizon, his voice started to give. For her part, Granger had listened and smiled. Randomly squeezing his hand and causing a jolt of awareness to rush through him each and every time.

He should've let go. He shouldn't have kept holding her hand. The thought never turned into action though.

Granger yawned and he stretched, breaking the comfortable silence.

'We should go.'

The witch nodded, rubbing her eyes. 'I'm knackered,' she yawned.

'Me too,' he replied. Stifling a yawn with a fist. 'Come on.'

Sirius pulled her up with a tug of his hand and paused at her shifty eyes. She bit her bottom lip and shuffled from one bare foot to another, looking uncomfortable and awkward as fuck all.

'Spit it out.'

'I need the loo.'

He snorted and walked towards the cottage. 'This way Granger.'

A tap of his wand on the doorknob and the back door sprung open with a slight squeak.

Bare walls greeted him. Dust particles moved before his eyes, floating in the rays of morning light.

It'd been years since he'd been inside.

Blossom Grove was the starter home for every newly married Potter. With the exception of James, all of his ancestors had been born here.

When he and Evans married, they would be given the cottage. And with the birth of their first heir, a plant would be added to the garden.

Mrs Potter had planted the Rose-Fire Bush herself. A difficult plant to grow and delicate to maintain, it was a highly coveted and prized possession. He was sure the symbolism had absolutely _nothing_ to do with her choice.

Sirius pointed at the stairs with their joined hands. 'Up the stairs, third door on the left.'

He didn't know who let go first. If she let go of his hand or he, hers. Or if it was a mutually in sync thing. He still felt the loss. His warm hand cooled and with a tight lipped smile, she moved past him.

Slate coloured eyes studied the room.

Wooden floors, old wallpaper, minimal furniture. No photographs. Nothing to personalize the building.

The perfect image of an Order safe house.

It was a far cry from the warm homecoming he usually received.

Most people had camp outs in their backyards. Tents and shit. But not James Potter. No, spoilt shite that he was, he was allowed full run of a cottage. All he had to do was ask, invite the Marauders over and done.

All those summers and holidays spent running around and destroying this damn place. Scorch marks where a spell had hit. Random duels over honour, duels over who ate the last bit of bacon. Loud and dirty, that's what he'd remember.

Not this empty shell.

He turned his back on the room and stepped back outside. Watching as the garden surrendered its last signs of magic and became Muggle once again.

At least some things didn't change.

It was Granger's birthday. He frowned as golden light pierced his eyes. Burning them and blinding him.

A sudden thought sprung to mind as he shielded his eyes with a hand.

Sirius looked to the Rose-Fire Bush, thinking.

It was a beautiful plant. Once plucked, the orange rose's flames burned and stayed burning until the rose became ice and melted away.

_The trick Sirius is to put a stasis charm on it three seconds after plucking it. The rose will forever burn but it'll never freeze or melt. A beautiful gift for a beautiful girl don't you think?_

He'd snorted at Mrs Potter but now that he thought of it, Granger might appreciate it.

The magical properties alone would interest her. Not to mention that it was actually quite pretty. Plus, it was her birthday. Everyone deserved at least one gift on their birthday.

He reached for the rose and counted. After three seconds, the orange bloom's flames danced between his fingers. He moved back to the door and waited.

He jumped when a crack rang out.

His wand was out within seconds. In a flash it was up and aimed at the Apparation point.

No one was supposed to come this early.

The Marauder blinked when he saw the flash of red, disheveled hair, charred clothes and an angry scowl.

'What the fuck are you doing here Black?'

He didn't lower his wand. Partly because he still didn't know what was going on and also because the longer it was aimed at him, the longer it annoyed Gideon.

'Waiting on you of course.'

The twat glared. He smiled. Then he winked. The orang-utan stalked towards him, stopping when his chest met the tip of Sirius' wand.

'Don't fuck with me boy. I'll fucking end you.'

Sirius believed him. That mad gleam in the shorter wizard's eye wasn't lying. Any normal wizard would've been afraid and cautious. Unfortunately for him, he was a tad bit reckless.

'What's wrong mate? Your hand break up with you?'

As soon as the words left his mouth, his back met the wall. He grunted at the impact, heard the rattling of windows and watery eyes stared down the ginger.

He shoved him back and Gideon barely moved. His muscle outweighing Sirius' height.

'Your little brother was there tonight,' he hissed. 'Wearing that fucking mask of his.' Blue eyes watched him through slits. 'And I almost killed him. Had my wand aimed at his back and the little fuck didn't even know it. He just stood there... torturing a Muggle. Laughing.'

Sirius pushed him off, punching him in the face.

Reggie... had been _laughing_?

Gideon stumbled but quickly righted himself. A humourless laugh escaped him as he wiped at his bleeding mouth.

'A whole village in Wales. Dark Marks as far as the eye could see... Not all of them died though. Some Muggle saw Death Eaters taking away young girls and boys... Benjy was in full form tonight. Brought down eight of the bastards.' He spat blood at Sirius' feet, almost hitting his boots. 'Know why I didn't kill Black Jr? Cos I'm waiting for you to be there. So you can watch him die.'

If he'd had a retort, it died in his throat.

He wanted to argue and defend his idiot brother but … how could he? There was nothing he could say. His brother was a Death Eater. So he stood there like an idiot and listened.

'It's nothing more than you deserve you fucking Death Eater spy-'

'Shut. Up!'

Sirius blinked, staring at Gideon's open mouth.

Granger walked out of the cottage. Tears streaming down her face, furious eyes trained on the shorter wizard. Her whole body vibrated with barely restrained anger.

'H-how dare you?!' she spat. Moving between them, standing in front of him, facing down the twin.

Sirius almost felt bad for the bloke. Almost.

'Hermione...? Wh-?'

'Shut up! How dare you speak to him like that! Who the hell do you think you are?'

Gideon clenched his jaw, glaring at him over the top of her head. He looked back down at her. 'What are you doing here with him?'

'That's none of your damn business.'

'Actually, it is.'

Granger didn't back down. 'No, it's not.'

Sirius saw the ginger flex his hands. 'It's not safe being out with him. He's not trustworthy Hermione.'

The witch laughed. He may have imagined it but it sounded an odd mixture of incredulous and bitter.

'I think I'd know better than _you_ Gideon.' She took a step towards him, 'Don't forget who I am.'

Granger glared at the stocky wizard, daring him to argue. He didn't though, he just looked between the pair of them. His mouth opened and closed. He shook his head.

She hadn't said much but her words had had a definite impact.

Confused, Sirius stared at the back of her bushy head.

Who the fuck was she that she'd shut Gideon up so thoroughly?

'I-I'm not wrong,' said the orang-utan.

'Yes you are.' Granger moved, stood on her toes, whispering into the ginger's ear. 'You're wrong about his brother too.'

His chest tightened. He felt his eyes grow wide. Sirius barely registered that she'd grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

They were crossing through the cemetery when his brain finally clicked. Dazed, Sirius pulled on her hand. She stopped looking back at him.

'Siriu-?'

'What the fuck was that?'

Granger bit her lip before looking away. 'I don't know what you're ta-'

'Don't fucking lie to me! You just told Gideon that he's wrong about me and my brother!'

Weary eyes watched him. She didn't say anything and he wanted to fucking shake her.

He pulled on her hand, bringing her towards him as he took a step forward. 'Hermione.'

'Trust me.'

He blinked, frowning down at her. 'What?'

'Trust. Me.'

Sirius shook his head.

'Please,' she said. Wide eyes focused on his. Granger squeezed his hand between her own. 'I told you once that I knew things. Things I couldn't tell you. You asked me to trust you... now I'm asking you. Please, Sirius. Just... trust me.'

She was asking far too much of him. She'd just defended him against Gideon's accusations. Then she'd defended Reggie. A bloke she'd never met and one he'd never want her to cross paths with.

The Marauder shook his head.

She shook hers too. 'Sirius,' she pleaded. 'Please.'

Granger looked desperate. Her eyes urged him to agree.

He should've told her to fuck off.

He should have pulled his hand away.

Instead he nodded. Reluctantly, but he did. 'Okay.'

Her answering smile was full of warmth. As frustrated as he was, he couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing it on her face again.

Granger was a fucking mystery. Who knew shit and apparently knew enough about his family situation to defend Reggie.

He had to trust her though. He'd asked her for the same thing and it was only fair that when asked to do the same he did.

He nodded at the witch and they continued their walk.

Where Gideon was, he didn't fucking know or care. If the idiot was his relief then he could take over after he'd seen her to her door.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his fringe.

_How did she know about Reggie?_

He'd never mentioned him to her. He'd never spoken of his family in fact.

Yes, the Blacks were well known. Their fanaticism too but Reggie? No, he didn't really talk about the idiot.

'Sirius?'

'Hm?'

'We're here,' she said, pointing at the door.

He blinked. He didn't remember walking through the village.

'Listen. Sirius,' she began what he felt would be a bunch of useless and placating words, void of substance. 'I know-'

Sirius frowned at his boots before spotting Batty's potted plants. Suddenly remembering what he'd been doing before Gideon interrupted him, he lifted his hand.

'Happy Birthday.'

She gaped and he grinned.

He'd surprised her and made her speechless.

Definitely fucking worth it.

The witch accepted the rose with a confused little smile.

'Thank you,' she said, still smiling.

'No problem Granger,' he nodded at the door. 'Go on. Kip for a bit.'

She was still looking at her rose when she nodded and turned, shutting the door behind her.

He was a bit smug, he had to admit. Her reaction had been well worth it.

Sirius took his usual spot, waiting to see when or if Gideon approached. His mind going over everything that'd been said and hinted at.

He pulled out his lighter, fags and flask.

He lit his cigarette and exhaled, then sipped his drink and stared up at her window.

She hadn't asked him how he'd been able to hear her whispered words.

* * *

**A/N: Hey ;). It's Dave.**

**Erica's feeling a bit under the weather unfortunately so I'm updating Silver for her. She doesn't even know I'm doing it. It'll be a surprise. I'm lovely I know, I'm aiming for a world's best beta t shirt. Maybe a mug.**

**Chapter's not too long or too short I think. It's just about right. Certainly pleased Erica. She was a bit iffy on the content mind. Thought her plans might be too big and not fit in the chapter. But we took our time, I calmed her nerves and once she was relaxed we came to a mutually satisfying finish.**

**It was beautiful really. A real bonding moment.**

**I reiterate, she doesn't know I'm updating for her so please be kind to our migrainey Erica and drop her a review. Also make sure to let her know she's a lucky woman to have a boyfriend/beta as wonderful and thoughtful as me. And that I behaved.**

**I'm not afraid of her or anything. .. but having a 5'4 latina pissed at you is fucking unpleasant.**

**On the plus side, my Spanish swearing is coming along nicely.**

**Anywho, thanks for reading, please review.**

**Laters,**

**Ericave**


	20. Storm

Many wonderful and grateful thanks Dave (_TheUnrealInsomniac_) for his beta work. You've put up with many a mistakes and an abundance of unnecessarily intentional commas, as well as Americanisms and for that you are appreciated. Thank you love. Go read his work dear readers, you can find him in my faves lists.

Another special thanks to _jasperandgemma_ over on tumblr for her beautiful fan art, which was pretty spot on in terms of capturing the intensity I aim to convey. Many, many thank you's to you. Go check it out my dears, either on her blog or mine or in the sirimione tag.

* * *

**Silver**

Storm

* * *

Sirius watched Granger with the patience of a seasoned veteran.

Over the past few days he'd studied her face, her every move and muttered word. It'd gotten to the point where he could close his eyes and perfectly envision her face. Had he wanted to, Sirius could have easily traced her every feature onto parchment.

Whatever it was that'd bothered her last week, seemed to have passed but she wasn't back to her usual pain in the arse self. Granger was reserved and her usual spark was gone. Her eyes were red rimmed and the dark smudges beneath her eyes were far too telling.

Granger wasn't happy but it was better than how she'd been that night.

Their routine returned and though he should've been grateful, there was no denying that it left a bad taste in his mouth.

She was quieter and when she did speak, she was polite and straight to the point. Please and thank you. It was all too fucking formal and he didn't like it.

His promise to himself kept playing in his mind though, so he'd left it alone. But by the end of Monday he'd had enough. It was Friday now and he knew without a doubt that he was well and truly going to die of boredom.

Granger Watching had proved uneventful. He knew her patterns far too well now so it didn't entertain for too long.

Brewing and dicing was too damn repetitive and boring as shit and there was no damn way he was going to go through the post.

Another week passed. Nothing changed and his frustration with her got worse.

Sirius looked at Granger with a side glance. She was reading a letter held between her hands, a small frown pulling at her brow.

That job needed patience that he did not have or could ever possess.

The witch was muttering under her breath and he strained to hear. His senses weren't sharp at the moment and with a mental note to transform as soon as possible, he turned to the witch.

'Sorry?'

Granger's eyes moved up and caught his own before flitting back down. She shook her head, clearly distracted. He sniffed.

She didn't answer him, not that he'd expected her to, so he returned to his chopping. The silver blade hitting the wood a bit harder than intended.

Sirius bit his bottom lip.

She hadn't asked him how he'd heard her.

Again.

For a fortnight, he'd been answering to her whispers and she had yet to notice or ask how he was doing it.

It was suspicious and unsettling as fuck all but there was no way of bringing it up without arising suspicion back onto him.

How was he to explain away weeks' worth of examples and detailed conversations? He couldn't. He was fucked.

So he handled it the best way he knew how. With inner grumblings and sarcastic comments.

The sound of her seat scraping across the floor rang through the room and he watched as she stood and made her way upstairs. She was sniffing a letter for some damn reason and he blinked. With a long suffering sigh, he followed behind her. His feet dragged up the stairs and they stopped mid step when he found her bent over, rummaging through a basket filled with dried herbs.

Granger had a nice arse.

A tilt of his head, raised eyebrows and a thorough study had him sure of the fact. Her arse was definitely nice to look at. He'd noticed it before of course, he was a bloke, and had grudgingly allowed himself to glance every so often.

But with her bent over like that? It was fucking obvious.

The witch straightened and sniffed at an herb in her hand. A frown, a slight shake of her head and bent at the waist once more.

He didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't looking. If the Marauder was honest with himself, he felt he deserved having a bit of a stare.

After everything he'd been forced to go through, he'd earned a stare. That it happened to be Granger was beside the point.

He was nineteen, almost twenty, and he hadn't gotten laid in over three months. He'd damn well deserved this. So he looked and fucking enjoyed it.

The witch stood and turned, a yellow herb held up to her nose. A soft smile pulled at her lips and Sirius felt his own twitch in response.

Grey eyes took her in.

Soft, plush lips. Large, whisky coloured eyes. Smooth, creamy skin. Beautiful, mad curls.

Sirius licked his bottom lip.

Granger had curves. Round hips and softness in all the right places. While her tits weren't big, when the rest of her looked like _that_, he didn't really care.

Sirius swallowed thickly, looking away as a familiar urge pulled beneath his navel.

He willed away his rapidly forming erection.

He needed pussy. It'd been too fucking long and with Granger … he just had to get laid soon. Being in a constant state of arousal was ridiculous. Which was confusing as fuck because the only woman he was around was her. They would be sat, doing nothing and his bloody dick would get hard for no reason.

The weirdest erection came when Granger had laughed and he'd physically reacted. It'd been odd and difficult to manoeuvre as they'd been walking through the village at the time. Hard cocks and functioning legs being difficult to coordinate.

The dog animagus cleared his throat as he studied a pink jar with floating herbs in it. A strong scent of cinnamon surrounded it and he fought the urge to sneeze.

Snivellus doing an ostrich feather dance. Gideon and Moody kissing. Marlene telling him she loved him.

Sirius shook his head, a shiver running down his spine. Stuff of nightmares that.

He sat on a nearby stool and waited as Granger moved to another bookshelf, still sniffing that damn herb. She seemed to be trying to guess its scent.

He frowned as his mind drifted to the argument he'd been having with himself throughout the week.

She couldn't be a Seer.

There was no way. Seers, real Seers, were rare. Rarer than rare. He'd read an article once that had done statistics on the subject and apparently one Seer was born every seven generations.

He doubted she was this generation's Seer.

But then again, his mind countered, she said she knew things. Things she couldn't say. And so she'd been hidden away. Watched over by him and high ranking Order members, under the careful eye of Albus Dumbledore himself.

She frightened Moody. Or worried him at least. Either way, something about her unsettled the seasoned Auror.

What could she know?

A lot about him apparently. He couldn't shake the feeling that she knew about Padfoot. The idea was ridiculous of course but now that he'd looked back on it, certain things stuck out at him.

She hadn't questioned his ability to see that night with the mushrooms, regardless of the fact that it was pitch black. To this day she had yet to ask how he'd heard her whisper into Gideon's ear. On one occasion, she'd watched him pet a dog and there had been a small, amused smile pulling at her face. At the time, he'd thought it'd been for the puppy but now, he wasn't sure.

She'd definitely called him Snuffles.

Which meant that she knew about Padfoot.

A crack of thunder echoed around them and he blinked, catching himself.

So what if she knew?

It was Granger and what was one more thing in comparison to whatever fuck else she knew? Besides, he thought, it was a small exchange in the grand scheme of things.

She knew about Padfoot. In return, she trusted him with her life.

The witch moved to the back of the shop, away from his line of sight and he followed behind her.

The Marauder pulled back his fringe. She couldn't be a Seer. They knew the future, not the present.

Sirius studied the herbs and jars and books as he passed the narrow walkways. The scent of potion ingredients potent. He wrinkled his nose and stopped mid-step.

The dog animagus squinted at a jar with purple and blue flower petals, near his shoulder.

Hydrangea.

His eyebrows shot up and he reached into his back pocket. He pulled out his bit of newspaper as he counted the letters in the word. Nine in total.

A colourful Muggle flower known to have magical properties in potent quantities. Used by potioneers to extract lower dose poisons from the body. Nine letters.

It fit but he didn't know if the flower was Muggle. He walked towards Granger, random noises she made guiding him.

He found her stood on a stool, reaching for a box on a high shelf. She was still about an inch too short unfortunately.

He put his crossword away as he made to help her.

'Granger,' he called. Moving her aside as he reached for the box, 'Are Hydrangeas Muggle?'

Dark eyes squinted up at him, an amused frown stared him down. 'Yeah,' she said. A confused little smile pulling at her lips. 'Why?'

He watched her mouth and felt the corner of his lips curl. 'I'm doing a crossword and I think it's the word I need, but I wasn't sure if it was Muggle. Thought it was magical.'

The witch shook her head. 'No. They're Muggle. Wizards found its magical properties by accident. Most people think it's magical because of it but no.'

'Ah.' He nodded, pulling out his newspaper and unclipping his Muggle pen from it. Tongue between lips, he wrote down the word and smiled triumphantly. He'd finished it.

He showed it to her, a wide smile on his face.

She laughed, studying the paper he held up and opened her mouth to speak when a bell rang.

The petite witch grabbed him by the shirt and a grunt escaped him as his spine met shelf with an audible thump. The bookshelf creaked but didn't move.

'Gr-'

'Shut up!' She hissed, her head turned to the side.

'Hermione?'

His eyes shot towards the front of the shop. His line of sight was blocked by bookshelves. He couldn't see him, but Sirius recognised the voice as Tony's.

'Tony!' Shouted Granger. 'I'll be there in a second. Just stocking up a bit!'

'Need help?'

'Nope. I'm good. Almost done.'

'Nonsense,' said the older bloke. 'Where are you?'

Footsteps echoed around them. Granger turned to him, panicked eyes piercing his own. It was after hours. The shop was closed, he wasn't supposed to be here.

She stood on her toes, whispering in his ear. 'Where's your cloak?'

He shook his head. He didn't wear it anymore. So he didn't carry it around.

Granger glared at him and he felt that same stirring from before.

Tony's steps got nearer and she pressed into him a bit further as if she would be able to shield him.

Sirius swallowed thickly. Suddenly very aware of her breasts pressed up against his chest. Her soft body nice against his hard one.

Granger was talking and she was shoving at him but he couldn't move.

Wide eyes stared at her.

Looking to his left, her whole focus was on Tony. Sirius' whole focus was the creamy skin of her neck.

He licked his lips and the thought formed in his head before he could stop it or truly understand it.

He wanted to kiss it. To press his lips beneath her ear and caress the soft flesh.

His dick got harder. Tony was getting closer. She pressed into him further and Sirius reacted without thinking. He pushed the petite witch away. A rush of cool air hit him and he both revelled and mourned the loss of her heat.

Granger stared at him, a confused frown on her face.

Their eyes met for just a second but it was long enough.

Eyes bright, face flushed, chest heaving, lips parted.

She looked fucking glorious and he imagined a similar reaction in a different setting.

His need grew at the mental image and the truth of his predicament hit him like a freight train.

Sirius swallowed thickly.

Silver eyes moved to her lips and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands through her curls as he thrust into her. Her panting breaths tickling his ear as she moaned his name, over and over again.

Granger moved and his eyes followed her.

She stopped as she turned the corner and he heard Tony gasp and laugh. Granger's own laugh was forced, he could tell. Her real laugh tinkled, this one was strained.

The witch moved, leant on her right foot and in doing so forced Tony to move. The blond's broad back blocked Granger from his view and Sirius slammed his eyes shut.

He heard them talk but their words didn't register. It was all background noise, secondary to the rushing sound of his heartbeat.

From the corner of his eye, he saw them move away and Sirius slid down the bookcase. Running trembling hands through his hair.

'Doesn't mean anything,' he muttered to himself. 'It doesn't mean anything.'

The drop in his gut called his bullshit.

Sirius closed his eyes, slamming his head against the shelf.

'What was that?' he heard Tony ask and Granger's answering voice reached him soon after.

'I didn't hear a thing.'

She moved the conversation along as Sirius slumped into a more comfortable position.

He stretched out a leg, propping his elbow on his bent knee.

He'd imagined fucking her.

It was logical, he reasoned, for that to happen. It'd been far too long since he'd had sex and the only woman his age around him was her.

It didn't mean a fucking thing.

He didn't fancy her.

Sirius scoffed at the idea and stopped almost instantly.

_Bit shit if you shagged the girl you're protecting._

James' warning echoing in his head. A cold chill ran down his spine. The likely possibility that that was his mate's last bit of advice hitting home.

He'd warned her about Granger. Had suspected this and probably would've decked him for it.

Sirius shook his head.

No.

He didn't fancy Granger. His physical reactions were just that. Nothing more. He'd have reacted the same to any reasonably attractive woman in these circumstances.

He heard the faint sound of the bell chime, followed by the sound of approaching steps. He stood and turned to face Granger.

The petite witch smiled at him and his ever present erection, throbbed.

'That was close,' she said and he inwardly swore.

The sinking feeling in his gut intensified and he unwillingly acknowledged the truth of his situation.

He wanted her.

* * *

Hermione yawned as she made her way downstairs. It was seven o'clock in the morning, on a Monday and life was horrible.

It had rained all weekend and today looked to be no better. The rain had settled at the moment, but the distant rumble of thunder and the dark grey clouds promised more rain to come.

It set her already crappy mood into a rapid spiral.

She was tired. Exhausted and drained. Her lack of sleep was taking its toll and she knew she was going to crash sooner rather than later. It was inevitable really.

After weeks of broken sleep, her body and mind had reached their limit. Honestly, if the potions weren't needed she doubted she would've been this dedicated a worker.

Another yawn as she ignored the dull ache between her eyes. She really was tired. She needed sleep.

Unfortunately, nothing she did worked.

The nightmares came and she would wake and her mind would race over her damned letter until sleep overtook her only to have the process repeat itself.

She'd made a mistake. She'd acted without thinking and as the days passed and no reply came... she was scared. Worried out of her bloody mind and it did not help that James Potter was still missing.

It was out of her hands unfortunately and short of her going out to search for him, there was nothing she could do about it. And to do that would be to be foolish. If James Potter was dead, and her belly ached at the thought, then Harry Potter would never be born. There would be no prophecy and no future worth fighting for. Voldemort would win. Her memories were the only thing that would save them and to go out and risk capture would be an unnecessary danger.

Really, if she was honest with herself, she was waiting for the eventual confirmation that James Potter was dead.

It was an unsettling thought. One that was painful and that she did not like to think about, but one she needed to consider a possibility.

Things had changed and as she'd told Dumbledore, ignoring it was the real danger.

She ran a hand over tired eyes and with a sigh, she pushed open the kitchen door.

At least, she thought, her morning couldn't get any worse.

Hermione shuffled her way into the kitchen, muttering a half-hearted, 'Hi.'

She picked up a mug and the kettle, nearly dropping them the second the unexpected voice spoke behind her.

'Hello Hermione. I hope this morning finds you well.'

She turned. Eyes wide and mouth gaping.

Dumbledore was sat at the kitchen table, beside a smiling Hooky. Her heart stammered and the room grew hot as she noticed the letter on the table.

She'd been hoping for a response but now that she would have one, she didn't want it.

Hermione didn't want to hear what the powerful wizard had to say.

She'd made a mistake sending that letter. She shouldn't have done it. Because of it, she would now have to face the consequences.

There was no way she was going to make it easy for him though.

Hermione averted her eyes. Bit her lip. Looked at the items held on her hand.

'Miss Granger?'

Her eyes watered as her heart beat against her chest.

She shouldn't have sent that letter.

'Hooky?' said the Headmaster. 'I need to speak with Hermione. May we have some privacy please?'

She didn't hear him reply but the scraping sound of chair on floor was answer enough. As was the silent click of the door.

'Please take a seat Hermione. We have much to discuss.'

His words were quiet. His tone, amiable. His request, friendly. No outward sign of displeasure.

Dark eyes moved to the letter and she swallowed thickly, setting down her things. Slow steps saw her seated seconds later.

She didn't look up. The fear of meeting his eyes was overwhelming.

An aged hand reached for the letter and her heart constricted. Her breathing came in short bursts. Heat flashed up and down her body. Her hands trembled and she squeezed them tightly, moving them to her lap.

'Do you know what this is Hermione?'

She didn't answer. Physically couldn't. Her throat was locked and breathing was an impossible thing at the moment. She blinked and tears fell down her face.

She shook her head once- a clumsy affair that revealed her lie.

'I think we both know that's not true. And that we both know why I am here.'

They did.

She met his eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away. Eyes back on the letter he held mockingly between them.

Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was toying with her. Teasing the truth out of her, waiting for her to blurt out the facts of her mistake. He already knew the truth, he had her letter in his hands, why then was he playing this game?

Was it a show of power? Evidence that he knew all and had absolute control of her life?

She wouldn't put it past him... but then again, she thought, he wouldn't be this cruel.

The powerful wizard spoke, breaking the silence.

'Batty tells me,' he said, raising the letter. 'That you had a breakdown.'

Her head shot up and met his eyes. She blinked, quickly looking away as more tears coated her cheeks.

Memories of her birth date flooded her, flashed through her mind, engulfing her.

Her chest constricted and silent tears fell fast and hard.

Dumbledore didn't speak or attempt to coax the answer out of her and it was that which gave her the courage to reply.

'It was my birth date.'

The powerful wizard fiddled with the letter- standing it on point and spinning it. Still, no response.

'I was-' she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Now that the fear and moment had passed, she felt ridiculous admitting it but... 'I was scared.'

'Understandable,' he replied, his tone matter of fact.

'The closer the date came, the worse it got and...'

And what? She had nothing else to say. Hermione shook her head, heat flooding her face, drying her tears.

She opened her eyes, focusing on his hands. Dumbledore dropped the letter.

'Your situation is unique Hermione. It is quite reasonable that you would have doubts of your continued existence on the date of your birth. I would have been more worried if you hadn't.'

Relief flooded her. He hadn't thought her silly or idiotic.

'I admit to having had my own reservations and am likewise relieved that they were proven wrong.'

She fiddled with her hands, eyeing her fingernails.

'I thought I would fade,' she whispered.

Tears blurred her vision. She blinked, quickly wiping them away.

'Again, a reasonable assumption.'

More lifesaving and soul soothing validation. She wept a bit more, silent tears and quiet sniffles.

'I have met a few exceptional people in my life Hermione. You my dear are above them all. That you have adjusted as well as you have...' he shook his head. 'It is an impressive feat. However, that is not to say that you are not allowed to stumble every so often. That you pick yourself up and push onwards, that is inspiring.'

She wiped away her tears.

'Did Croaker ever say...?'

His long beard swayed as he shook his head. 'He had mentioned it as a curiosity but not as a caution. Professor Croaker was undoubtedly interested for his own reasons.'

Hermione hummed, remembering the odd potato man. She didn't doubt the Headmaster's words.

'However,' he said a bit loudly, straightening himself in his seat. 'This is all behind us now. While we do not know the full extent of the magic at work here, we can rest assured that you will not be unborn. Your corporal state is validation enough I believe. Whatever magic brought you here, guaranteed your continued life and as long as you are here, I see no need to question it. To do so would be detrimental to your state of mind. In my long life I have found some questions are without answer. The eternal, "Why am here?" is definitely one of them.'

Hermione knew why she was here. The Woman had made several rants about it in fact. She didn't need to know her purpose, she knew it well enough.

_You'll go back and fix this!_

She bit her lip, pushing away that thought.

'Another point of interest, Batty will be gone for a month.'

Her head shot up, eyes wide, mouth open. 'What?'

The powerful wizard nodded, drinking from his mug. 'She will be helping a close personal friend of hers as she tends to her wounded son.'

_Wounded son?_

Hermione frowned as her mind conjured up an image of Harry.

'James?!'

Dumbledore's eyes darted to her own over the rim of his cup.

She averted her eyes, renewed heat flooding her cheeks.

The Headmaster chuckled. 'You would think that after all these years I would know better than to give Batty orders and expect her to follow them.'

I caught her crying, she almost said but caught herself. Batty wouldn't want it mentioned or acknowledged and Hermione wasn't going to betray that trust.

'I overheard her mention it to Hooky.'

'Indeed,' he replied, clearly not believing her.

In her defence, she hadn't really tried to sound convincing. Hermione doubted Batty would care. Knowing the older woman, she would have found it amusing that she'd attempted to lie to the Headmaster. Batty was of the mind that she was a terrible liar.

If only she knew.

At this point, lying had become second nature and no matter how much Hermione hated that, it was a part of who she was now.

Spoken lies or lying by omission, it was all the same.

'It is James Potter?' she asked bluntly, pushing aside all vagueness.

He didn't answer her right away. He nodded. 'Yes, young Mr Potter is a little worse for wear but his spirits are not diminished. A few cuts and bruises as can be expected but he is mending well. For that, you must be commended. Our healer is pleased with your level of potioneering my dear and sends his regards. Of course he believes, as do all Order members, Tony is brewing the potions but as we know otherwise his gratitude is naturally yours for the taking.'

The pressure in her chest uncoiled. A heaviness that she'd not been aware of left her shoulders.

_James Potter was alive._

She doubted it was more than a few cuts and bruises but as long as he was alive then everything else would heal.

Dark eyes shot up.

'How's Sirius?'

'Relieved.'

Eyes back on the table, she nodded with a sigh. 'He'd been odd these last couple of days.'

Dumbledore raised his mug, 'How so?'

She shook he head. How to explain it?

'He seemed distracted. Jumpy. He wouldn't look at me. He looked like he'd lost more sleep... well, no. To be fair, it was getting worse but he'd been odd for some time. A few weeks at the most.'

The Headmaster smacked his lips. 'Yes, that would coincide with James' disappearance.'

Hermione nodded. Yeah, that had to be it.

_It's not the entire truth though is it?_

She pushed that thought away.

_It doesn't explain the odd looks._

Nor the intensity with which he would meet her eyes. The way he looked at her sometimes...

'He requested a month off.'

Hermione blinked, looking up at the Headmaster who was eyeing the plate of biscuits like a scientist would a problem.

'Yes. He said he needed it and to be honest, he looked like he needed it. A month off was granted. I believe he will use this time to help James. He will return this time next month. Until then, one of the Prewetts will be your watch.'

Her throat was dry. Hermione blinked down at her intertwined hands, frowning.

She didn't like the idea. It ... she didn't like it. She was used to Sirius. He was her guard. They had a set routine and it worked for her. Hermione trusted him.

But James Potter needed him more than she did.

Hermione nodded, swallowing thickly. 'Good.'

The powerful wizard nodded once. 'Your safety is my number one concern Hermione. However, realistically, we must accept the inevitable conclusion that you might not have a guard every day. When the war inevitably escalates, a regular guard may not be possible. Do you still have your Portkey?'

Hermione nodded, gesturing at her pocket. In reality, it was in her bra. As of late, she always put it there. It guaranteed that she wouldn't accidentally drop it. She always dug in her pockets, she never dug in her bra.

'Excellent. Rest assured that I have implemented every safety precaution for you and though you may not have a guard one day, it does not mean that you are not safe.'

'I know Professor,' she said. 'I have never once doubted it.'

The Headmaster smiled, dipping his head. 'Your trust is appreciated.'

_But not returned,_ she thought.

What he didn't say and what she didn't mention was that all the safety measures implemented, not only kept her safe but also in line. She was as much a prisoner as she was protected.

Unpleasant as that fact was, it was better than the alternative.

'How long will Batty be gone?'

The Headmaster wobbled his head, 'Two or three weeks. Not long. Just enough to aid Euphemia at this vital time.'

Hermione nodded, watching as he dipped his biscuit in his tea.

'But he's fine, right?'

'Sirius?'

'James.'

'Better than expected.'

A few cuts and bruises indeed.

The professor drained his tea and sat back, a content smile on his face. He looked pleased and she couldn't help but grin. She eyed his nose, long and broken.

'Do forgive me Hermione, for eating and running but duty calls. I have several meetings with the school governors as well as Ministry officials. They have been waiting,' he pulled out his pocket watch and quickly put it back in his pocket. 'For thirty minutes. They will be quite annoyed.' He smiled. 'But alas, the can wait. You were more important.'

He stood, grabbing his letter and putting it back in his pocket. 'Remember my dear, you are well guarded even if you are unaware of it. Do not let Batty's absence or a lack of guardian make you feel less than safe. Do as you would normally do. Do not change your habits or routine, be as you have been. You are safe and you are protected.'

_You are watched._

The words were left unsaid but she heard them loud and clear.

Watch your arse Hermione. Albus is up to something.

'Thank you Professor,' she replied, standing and seeing him to the door.

'I am your servant my dear,' he said before turning on his heel and walking down the wet street. A slight drizzle falling on his shoulders.

The brunette shut the door behind her and felt her knees give way. Her panic built quickly, flooding her senses.

A sob was ripped from her throat and that ache in her chest returned. She couldn't breathe. The walls rattled and her head throbbed.

The wail of a child reached her ears and she used it to steady herself.

Hermione focused on the sound. Let it flow over her and thought of nothing else. The walls stopped shaking and stood still. She wiped at her face with a sleeve and breathed in deeply.

Her head fell back, a muted thump echoed around her.

James Potter was alive.

_James Potter was alive._

Harry was safe.

The _future_ was safe.

Another relieved sob. She pulled herself up with the help of a nearby desk and stood on shaky legs. Somehow, she managed to find herself back at the kitchen table.

Hermione watched the opposite chair, where the Headmaster had sat, staring blankly at the spot where the letter had been.

Relief poured out of her as did dread at the implication.

For one heart stopping second, Hermione had thought he'd intercepted her letter.


	21. Monotony

Once again, thank you to my wonderful beta for his speedy and incredible work. Dave, you're a gem.

* * *

**Silver**

Monotony

* * *

Hermione knew she was being unfair.

Snapping at Fabian wasn't an option but at this point it seemed the only logical conclusion.

He was chatty. Friendly. Pleasant.

Easily distracted. Forgetful and the talking was never-ending.

She liked him. He was a good man but she was not used to this level of conversation anymore. Hermione had found, much to her surprise, that she liked silence. Or sporadic silences at least.

Fabian, on the other hand, seemed to dislike quiet. He had to talk, crack jokes- just constantly speaking, trying to get her to talk and Hermione... she wasn't comfortable with it.

It made her feel socially inept and uncomfortable, because she didn't always know how and what to contribute to the conversation.

Nor did it help that he _knew_ about her. She felt exposed - studied and ridiculed as he waited for the perfect moment to start asking her questions.

The brunette felt awkward in her own skin around him- because of him.

She hadn't expected that. So used to Batty and Sirius, she'd thought she'd recovered somewhat but the ginger's presence only made things clearer.

Hermione hadn't gotten better in the normal sense, she'd just gotten comfortable with those around her.

Strangers were still very much a problem.

And Fabian Prewett, no matter how familiar, was an acquaintance at best.

The more he tried to push for normalcy, the more obvious it became that their situation was anything but.

Their previous interactions had been short, brief and interrupted. Now, they were stuck together for days on end and it was clear that she didn't have much to say to him.

She also had a problem with asking him for help.

It was too weird to ask him so she had to reinvent her pattern and schedule to fit all her previously shared responsibilities.

Whereas before, Sirius would brew as she handled the post, she now had to manage both. After a failed attempt at trying to read the post while brewing, which resulted in burnt potions, she decided that letter reading was best reserved for insomnia fuelled nights.

Potioneering in itself was a problem - she hadn't realized how much she'd come to depend on the Marauder.

On his magic, if she was honest.

With a wave of his wand, she had objects summoned to her. Identical labels magically appeared. Rubbish and dangerous post disappeared and now with Sirius gone, it was blatantly obvious how much magic had once again been a part of her life.

That it'd been his and not hers had reopened a still festering wound.

Fabian had not helped.

She'd done magic. Accidental or instinctive as it may have been, it'd been unpleasant to have him acknowledge it.

'You did magic!' he'd exclaimed. 'Hermione, congratulations!'

His praise had only made her self-aware and self-conscious.

All in all, it'd been an uncomfortable first week.

By the end of the second week she'd been exhausted.

The lack of sleep and the emotional toll taken as the days passed had made the remainder of September unbearable until October rolled around without much fanfare.

All the plush greenery gave way to yellows, oranges and reds as fallen leaves painted the cobblestone beneath her feet. Godric's Hollow had become hauntingly beautiful.

As the weather grew nippy, the days became steadily shorter. Kids' games switched from football to conkers. Light mist began to coat early mornings and late nights while the evenings turned silent with the setting sun.

Days passed and blurred together and a peaceful tranquillity had settled over the village.

Still, her letter remained unanswered.

She had briefly considered sending another, but after much debating Hermione had decided against it. She'd risked more than enough with the first, a second letter would at this point be dangerous.

Her mind raced with endless possibilities, torturing her with alternate scenarios. Challenged only by her future knowledge.

Had it not been for Batty, she would've lost her bloody-ever-loving mind.

_'Sirius and Hermione sitting in his tree-'_

The brunette shut her eyes, shaking her head. 'Batty, please shut up.'

_'-F-U-C-K-I-N-G!'_

'Batty!'

The tiny witch stopped mid pause, her mouth wide and eyes twinkling. An innocent look in her eyes that hid the evil within.

'I was just singing,' she answered sweetly.

Hermione pursed her lips, the corners of her mouth threatening to curl. 'Yeah, well. Don't.'

'Boring bitch.'

'Batty.'

'Hermione.'

The brunette looked away from the smiling woman. Her eyes settling back on the letter she'd been reading.

'Why are you still awake? Are we too lovelorn?' she mocked.

Hermione shook her head, all humour gone. 'I couldn't sleep.'

'Obviously. Why?'

_Why?_

Such a simple question, with too complicated an answer.

As of late, Batty had been asking it a lot.

She didn't answer and from the corner of her eye, she could see the brilliant witch studying her.

'Where's Hooky?'

The powerful historian slouched back on her chair, 'He's back at Potter Hall. Rat's taken a fancy to another Rat, decided to stay behind for the weekend. Told him to give his Rat a rose... seems to be all the rage at the moment.'

The brunette shook her head, dark eyes turning towards the shorter woman. 'When are you going to let that go?'

'Never, ever, under any circumstances, for as long as I live.'

'It was my birthday Batty.'

'He also didn't have to do it.'

That was true and she'd had no counter argument other than her usual-

'I've told you, he was just being nice.'

'Doesn't explain why you spent the night with him.'

'We just talked!' she hissed for the hundredth time, making the other woman laugh.

'Please?! Hermione. It's been sometime since I've played hide the sausage bu-'

Hermione slammed her Muggle pen down, turning in her seat to face the older witch. 'Batty, nothing happened! Gideon was there!'

'A threesome!' She laughed, clapping her hands together. 'Even better. Who's bigger, better and more vocal? I have a feeling Sirius is a grunter. Gideon looks like he's a heavy breather.' Batty turned light green eyes on her, tilting her head. 'You a screamer? Never mind, I'll ask Sirius when I see him.'

'Please shut up,' groaned Hermione, rubbing between her eyes.

Batty sniffed, kicking off her shoes. 'You're boring as shit this late at night.'

'Thank you.'

'You're quite welcome.' A moment of silence and then, 'Okay, but did they lick it befor-'

'Batty!'

Her cheeks were burning and heat raced down her spine. She knew she was bright red and Batty's amusement did her no favours.

The tiny witch raised placating hands.

'Alright, alright,' she said, laughter distorting her words. 'I'll stop. Sorry. I was just making up for lost time. It's been ages love.'

That was true. With her going off to help the Potter's and she with Order work, they hadn't really seen each other.

The younger witch didn't know what Batty was doing or how she was helping but the older woman left early and arrived late. At most, they only saw each other late at night. Their conversations brief and to the point.

_Hi._

_Alright?_

_Yeah, you?_

_Fine. Night love._

It was a small price to pay considering the circumstances.

Hermione nodded, sitting back on the couch, her head lolling to face Batty. 'How is he?'

'Distracted and just as big of an arse as ever.'

The curly haired witch frowned, confused by her answer.

'James is okay too. Healing.'

Hermione groaned, shutting her eyes and turning away. 'Batty...'

'That was the last one, promise.'

A comfortable silence settled over them. The only sound in the room that of Batty's clock.

'Hermione?'

'Hm?' Dark eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred.

'Go on up to bed. It's late.'

Hermione rubbed her eyes, clearing her throat as she sat up. 'I can't. I have to finish a few more letters.'

Batty's voice was gentle and quiet when she spoke again. For some reason, it'd made her feel homesick.

'They can wait love, they're not going anywhere.'

'The writers might.'

The historian had no answer to that, nor did she say anything as Hermione read through another handful of letters.

The sixth letter she came across mentioned an Auror Longbottom and her throat locked as Neville's face swam before her eyes. She pushed it away with ease and that both comforted and frightened her.

'Can you vanish this please?' she asked, raising the letter with two fingers.

A wave of her wand and the post disappeared.

'Did Sirius do that for you?'

Hermione nodded, yawning.

'Nice of him.'

Another nod, another letter, more silence.

She'd been staring at her Muggle pen for several seconds before she caught herself doing it.

'That's it,' she stated. 'I'm off to bed.'

'About time.'

She didn't get up though. Instead, she sat back on her seat far too exhausted to move. The aged cushion perfectly melded around her, relaxing every aching muscle.

'Are you sleeping?'

Hermione licked her lips. 'Not as much as I should.'

'Tomorrow is Saturday, take the weekend off.'

Her initial instinct was to refuse but her tired body and mind begged her to reconsider.

'The war effort won't suffer because you don't brew potions for two days love. Take two days. Relax. Do nothing. Sleep and eat. You've earned them.'

Logically, she knew Batty was right.

Still.

It felt wrong. A bit selfish and uncaring. Something must've shown in her face because-

'Stay home and do more letters then. Sit out on the garden and do the post, just don't go to the shop.'

She opened her mouth to reply and was surprised by the words that left her mouth.

'I'm tired.'

'I'm not surprised. You're taking on way too much Hermione.'

The brunette shook her head. 'I do the least possible-'

Batty interrupted her. 'Do you? You brew all the potions and do the post for those under protective custody while dealing with personal issues. Fucking hell Hermione, you practically considered fighting for the Order - without magic. The only reason you hold the position that you do is because Albus forbade you a higher one. If he hadn't, you'd have willing fought if so ordered.' Batty shook her head. 'Take the damn world off your shoulders love. It's too big of a burden.'

'I could do more,' she murmured and Batty nodded.

'You could. So could I. Or we keep doing what we're doing now.'

'Sit and talk about us doing nothing?'

The older witch stared at her for several seconds. 'Is that what you think we're doing?'

Hermione didn't answer. Batty's tone had successfully confused her.

'You really are daft, you stupid bitch.' The magical historian laughed, shaking her head. 'Hermione- why are you here?'

She shook her head, stumped by the change of topic and Batty's sudden enthusiasm.

'Fucking hell you're hopeless,' laughed the powerful witch. Eyes twinkling like mad, dimples out in full force. 'Hermione, you're here because Albus wants you protected right?'

The young witch nodded slowly and all at once, Batty's chuckles stopped.

'You know something. That's what he said and you have to stay hidden because Voldemort can't know you exist.'

Another nod.

'Which means you're important enough that he'd want you killed or for some other fucked up, shittier reason.'

Brown eyes turned away from the tiny witch. She looked at her hands, fighting the urge to look at the mokeskin pouch sat on the coffee table before her.

It'd never been moved. From that first time she'd set it there, on that first night she'd arrived, she had yet to pick it up.

'If you're hidden it's because it's needed. That you're alive and safe... that's your victory. My job is to watch you and make damn sure you stay breathing and I can sure as hell tell you that Dumbledore insists on you staying that way. The way that old bastard watches over you...' she shook her head, sitting back on her purple chair, 'Trust me, you staying alive is more than enough.'

Her nightmares pushed to the forefront of her mind. Of Muggle-borns staring at her with accusing eyes. Bodies scattered around her, their unseeing gazes focused on her.

'It's not enough. The potions and these letters are the least I can do.'

Batty nodded at the post scattered around her. 'And are they worth you losing sleep or waking up crying because of them?'

Her head shot up. Wide eyes focused on the tiny witch who nodded. 'Thin walls love. I told you from the very beginning. If we can hear baby Stevie from next door, what makes you think I couldn't hear you waking up from nightmares?'

Her cheeks burned and she looked away, ashamed and angry with herself. She hadn't thought- hadn't even considered the possibility that her- Hermione's throat locked.

_What else had Batty heard?_

Memories of waking up screaming and shaking, of her sitting up, reaching for a non-existent ghost rushed forward.

'What's your point Batty?' she asked, her voice thick.

Batty took her time answering and Hermione's shame grew.

'My point Hermione is this: I've been arriving late for the past two weeks. Every other day, I've found you sitting on the couch, in that same spot. Telly on, drink out, half eaten plate of food as you read letter after letter. The same stressed out look in your damn face and it's steadily gotten worse. You can't do it anymore. Before, you just looked tired and sleep deprived but now you look like the fucking world is dragging you down. Your nightmares have gotten worse and we both know it, because again, thin fucking walls.'

She didn't say anything though every fibre in her being demanded that she defend herself. It was true though. Nothing Batty had said was a lie.

'I'm going to guess here and tell me if I'm wrong, Sirius helped you with this?' An aged hand gestured at the letters.

Hermione nodded and Batty did too at having her suspicion confirmed. 'I thought as much. I assume Fabian or Gideon or whoever is watching you for the day, that they don't help?'

The younger witch shook her head. 'It's not their responsibility.'

'It's not Sirius' either... or yours for that matter.'

'I want to help,' she insisted. Dark eyes boring into light green ones. 'I have to do something Batty. I can't just sit around, doing nothing as people around m-' she swallowed thickly as unshed tears stung her eyes.

For a long time, Batty didn't speak. When she broke the silence, her voice was calm and collected.

'Have you ever heard of the Pavlovsk seed bank in Russia Hermione?'

The brunette paused, caught off guard by yet another unexpected change in topic. She shook her head, eyeing the older woman, wondering where she was going with this.

'I thought so, it's a bit of history not readily known on account of it being Russian,' she waved a spotted hand. 'Anyway, during the second Muggle world war, the city where the seed bank resided was seized. The Germans had barricaded the town I believe and had forbidden anything from entering or leaving. People began to starve and die. The seed bank came under attack from the very townsfolk who lived there. They wanted to eat the seeds, understandable under the conditions but unfortunately for them, scientists had barricaded themselves inside the building long before the city had been shut down.' The tiny woman sat up straighter. 'They'd suspected this would happen you see? A blockade would stop things from coming in, food shortages would occur, starvation and desperation would eventually give way to looting. A seed bank, which sole purpose is to store seeds, grains and tubers, was a natural temptation. So these scientists shut down the building and waited. Eventually people tried to break in, and those scientists defended those damn seeds with their lives. From rats, critters, the starving masses ... and even themselves. They knew the greater picture. War was ravaging the countryside, crops were being lost and in the aftermath of war, those seeds and grains would become priceless and invaluable. So they vowed not to eat them because their purpose was greater than their lives and more important than those banging on the doors... the scientists ate the paste off the wallpaper, their clothes... anything they felt was safe and edible. It didn't help and in the end, twelve scientists died of starvation, in a room full of food... after the war ended, those seeds became crops and saved thousands of lives.' Batty sat back in her seat with a shrug. 'Their inactivity saved lives. Yes, people died and those scientists had the chance to save them but it wasn't worth the risk. Saving a few and risking thousands? Where's the logic in that? Hermione,' the older witch shook her head, white hair glinting in the light, 'your situation may be completely different but the fact remains the same. If you're hidden, it's because you need to stay hidden. Not just for your safety but because in doing so... who knows? You may be saving the future.'

Hermione's eyes shot to the tiny witch who refused to meet her eyes. A vice like grip squeezing her insides.

She swallowed thickly, struggling for words as a thought which she'd never entertained crept up her spine and took root.

_Batty knew._

Impossible, her mind countered but the doubt - now turned suspicion- didn't lessen.

The older woman didn't look at her as she stood. 'I'm going to bed love. Have a good night.'

Hermione mumbled something as she began to organise the letters.

'Leave them on my desk, under the War and Peace book. I'll start sorting through them and help you with as many as I can. I'll take a few with me in the morning and hopefully lessen your load since you're too fucking stubborn for your own good.'

Hermione cleared her throat, finally finding her voice. 'You don't have to.'

'I know but I might as well,' she replied. 'Who knows, it might actually help. For all I know, a simple letter could turn the tide of war.'

And then she was gone.

Up the stairs and off to bed as Hermione struggled to understand everything that had been said.

* * *

If he could have, Sirius would've vanished away the sun while simultaneously giving it the finger.

There was a dull throb behind his eyes and his mouth tasted fucking foul, made all the worse by a sudden need to vomit.

Hangovers were fun.

A stirring to his left made him painfully aware of his current situation and he groaned. Reluctantly, Sirius opened his eyes and was not at all surprised to find a smiling brunette looking up at him.

His head fell onto the pillow and he groaned as his numb arm demanded he act. A shrug of his shoulder and the bird moved.

'Good morning,' she said, smiling lips and twinkling eyes aimed at him.

The Marauder made a noise, caught somewhere between a grunt and a murmur as he sat up. It may have been a 'morning' but he wasn't sure and he didn't care.

He ran his hands through his hair, pushing away the need to vomit as he searched for his clothes.

'Did you sleep well?' the girl asked to which he nodded.

It was true too. He'd slept like a rock. Something he'd not been able to do in years and while he was grateful, he was also disgusted with himself.

He didn't know her name. Or remember it at least but her face ... he knew that.

Or one just like it anyway.

Dark, bright eyes and lush, chocolate curls. A pair of cupids bow lips marred by a sinful little smile.

She wasn't her but it was damn close. They could've been cousins and when he'd introduced himself last night, he hadn't planned for this to be the end game. Drunk Sirius on the other hand hadn't seemed to get the message.

The more he drank, the less important their differences became. As his vision blurred with drink, the similarities grew more pronounced and he'd had to taste her. Every moan spurned him on and the more he sought his release, the more enthusiastic she'd been.

There'd been nothing intimate about what he'd done to her last night. Simply put, he'd fucked the shit out of her while imagining someone else.

He resolutely refused to acknowledge who that other person was though.

_Did- Did you just fucking call me Hermione?!_

Sirius stood, pulling on his jeans as he did. Behind him, the girl spoke again and he shut his eyes in exasperation.

'I had fun last night.'

He didn't answer. Really, he'd rather the whole thing hadn't happened because it shouldn't have. It'd all been one huge, shitty mistake that had given him one of the best orgasms of his life as well as a peaceful sleep. And that, if nothing else, indicated the danger of his major fuck up. It couldn't happen again.

Not with girls who looked like-

_Who's Hermione, Sirius?_

He slammed his eyes shut at the memory of blue, pained eyes staring him down.

Or with Marley.

His gut churned and he rushed to the loo, just making it to the toilet as he emptied its sour contents.

He'd drunk too much. Could, technically, blame the drink for his lapse of judgment in regards to the girl and it wouldn't have been a lie but it wouldn't have excused away his fuck up with Marley.

That had happened when he'd been stone cold sober.

It'd been an accident. An honest bloody mistake that he'd been just as shocked and surprised by. It'd - he hadn't meant for it to happen. He'd been sat in the Potter's garden, watching the fountain and struggling with his thoughts when Marley'd walked up to him.

A conversation had started, he didn't remember what but then they'd started arguing about- about transfiguration? She'd refused to accept his superior knowledge, had actually fucking questioned him about his transfiguration ability and that angry glint in her eyes ... It'd seemed so similar to hers that he hadn't thought. He'd just fucking reacted and next thing he knew Marley was on her knees and he'd shut his eyes and he- he said her name.

_H-Hermione._

It'd been a freezing, tsunami of a mood killer.

She'd stood as he shoved his rapidly softening dick back into his jeans and had then proceeded to demand answers. He'd done the natural thing and denied everything while knowing damn well that he was lying. He left her ranting. Didn't look back and then, in the spur of the moment, decided that a drink was in order.

Just as he was about to leave, the girl from last night had walked in with her mate and try as he might, he'd been powerless to resist her flirting glances.

Just a drink, he'd told himself.

She was clever. Witty. Had an answer for every one of his suggestive comments and that she'd not cared to know his name had only made it all the more fun.

_No names. It'll be interesting! I'll call you ... Mr Darcy!_

She'd laughed and he'd chuckled, pretending to know but not at all caring about her little joke.

More drinking and now here he was, in the girl's bathroom rinsing out his mouth, remembering his utter disgrace.

When he left the loo, he found the bed empty, all his clothes collected into a neat little pile - his wand sat on the top.

He dressed quickly, far too anxious to stick around any longer.

He stepped out of the room, into a cheery living room. All perfectly matched and welcoming, he was startled when the girl appeared and shoved a glass of water and two tablets at him.

The familiar Muggle remedy was taken with muttered thanks.

'You're not much of a talker sober are you?'

He shrugged, still gulping his drink.

'Alright well ... thank you for the enjoyable evening. I had fun.' She smiled at him before giving a little bounce and pointing behind her. 'Oh! I only found one of your drumsticks. I put it on top of your clothes, I'm sorry I couldn't find the other.'

He reached into his back pocket, feeling his wand. He nodded and she chuckled.

'You don't do this often do you?'

He didn't answer as he walked towards the door. The Marauder stopped and turned and for unknown fucking reasons-

'Thank you for having me...' and then. 'I'm sorry. What's your name?'

The girl laughed and the slight guilt he carried faded away.

Dark eyes danced. 'Lizzy,' she answered. 'Lizzy Bennett.'

He nodded at her. 'It was nice meeting you.'

'Likewise.'

There was a strange gleam in her eye and though he shouldn't have asked her about it, he did.

The girl ran her eyes over him before speaking, staring at his crotch a little longer than normal.

'I was just thinking. Whoever this Hermione of yours is, she's one very lucky girl.'

And then he'd been kicked out. His mind racing as he realised how she'd know that name.

He'd said it as- as...

Sirius Apparated away. Didn't bother looking around as he did, the need to get away outweighed all sense.

When he opened his eyes, a rippling curtain of pink greeted him.

Blossom Grove bloomed all year round and Muggle plants were no exception. It was something in the soil, Mrs Potter had said once. Centuries of Potter magic and dragon fertilizer had mixed to create a super healthy environment for any and all plants. It was a sight that took your breath away, especially during winter days when its heat caused the falling snow to melt above your head. It was an oasis in the middle of the harshest winters.

It was also a pain in his arse.

A damn temptation that he'd fought repeatedly and kept fucking failing to beat.

With heavy footsteps, he found himself sat on the old bench, her scent filling his nostrils. He'd smelt her for some time now and it was both a wonderful and shit thing.

He hated it. Hated himself and her for making him need her scent.

Last night had been a mistake. From that very morning, he'd known it was going to be a shit day.

James' spasms had reoccurred overnight and his pained screams had resulted in worry and anger fuelled insomnia. Then when he'd finally stopped, Mrs Potter had cried as Mr Potter held her and his chest had burned from the sight of it.

Breakfast had been tasteless as a pounding behind his eyes demanded sleep that would not come. He'd taken a walk and sat for fuck knew how long in that damn garden watching that sodding fountain until Marley interrupted his mindless wondering.

That's when she'd started and argument and - it'd reminded him of _her_. He didn't understand why or how but it had. Which was odd, because he and Marley had had similar discussions over the years so there was no logical reason as to why it should have-

He groaned, running his hands through his hair.

Whatever the cause, it'd happened. He'd said the wrong name and then ran off to get pissed and fucked a bird that looked the spit of her. And now here he was. Sat in a centuries old, enchanted bench, drowning in her scent.

It was infuriating and it made him want to punch something.

It'd been three weeks since he'd seen her and for the past week, he'd been visiting this damn bench.

He'd needed room to breathe and without realising it, his feet had brought him here. It'd taken him a while to realise that his smelling her hadn't been a recalled memory.

The second it'd clicked, he'd left and sworn to never return. Yet, for some fucking reason, he kept coming back. He absolutely refused to try and figure out why.

He'd had a good reason to ask for time off.

Mr Potter had found James and nothing else had mattered.

Problem was there hadn't been much for him to do. Really, he'd just been in the way.

Mrs Potter, Batty and Evans pretty much had all angles of James' recovery covered. Mrs Potter and Lily watched him at night while Batty took charge in the day. All he'd been good for was talking. It wasn't much but Mrs Potter swore it was more than enough. He didn't understand how but as long as he was able to talk to his best mate, he didn't really question it.

So, he visited James when he could and avoided 'talking about any unpleasantness' as Mrs Potter had ordered. It'd been odd talking about anything other than the war, especially as there'd been several attacks since Prongs had been found.

Witches and wizards had gone missing over several days. Attacks on Muggles had increased and several murdered children had been found - each new day had begun with terrible news.

After each report had been given and against his will, his thoughts would stray to her.

Her safety was a guarantee, Dumbledore was her guardian after all, but it did nothing to comfort him.

He'd worried after her because he'd been her guard for months, he'd told himself. Naturally, his concern was a product of that. But then he'd fucking smelled her and now he wasn't completely sure if his concern was strictly busi-

Sirius shook his head, refusing to complete that thought.

He stood and without a backwards glance, left the garden.

Hands in pockets, shoulders hunched, neck tucked against his hood to keep the morning chill at bay all the way to Potter Hall.

He took the grand stairs two at a time, taking advantage of Batty and the Potters enjoying their breakfast in the dining room to see James.

The second he stepped into the room, he wished he hadn't.

'Who's Hermione?'

He froze mid step, stormy eyes staring down the redhead.

His mouth fell open and with a pounding heart, searched the room.

'She's not here,' spat Evans.

The amount of relief he felt at those words had been unexpected.

'Who's who?' frowned James, hazel eyes darting between him and the petite witch.

Sirius' throat locked and he swallowed thickly before shaking his head.

'Why?' asked another voice and he nearly flinched.

Sirius shut the door behind him, exposing James' corner library - and Remus.

The werewolf wasn't looking at him though. He was watching Evans, waiting for an answer to his question.

Warning lights flashed off in his brain and heat raced up his spine which increased the second Moony set suspicious eyes on him.

_Fuck._

'Well?!'

He bit back a growl, his nails digging into his palms as he turned to the nosy witch.

'Well, what?' he replied with more ease than he felt.

'Who is she?'

All eyes were on him and he fought the urge to swear at her.

'That's none of your business Evans.'

'Like hell it is!' she yelled. 'You weren't the one Marley cried on after what you did!'

His gut clenched and he grimaced before he was able to school his features.

James groaned then, clutching at his rib and the room grew silent. Lily sat back down on her bedside chair, worried eyes focused on the stag animagus.

The Marauder was still pale but he'd quickly regained the weight he'd lost. His muscles were taking their sweet time to heal though.

'I'll go get you your potions,' Evans said, standing. 'Batty brought a new load.'

He avoided her eyes as she stormed past him, he didn't trust himself to stay quiet otherwise. He was too pissed off and the last thing Prongs needed was for him and Evans to have a go at each other.

Then again James was a lying piece of shit.

'You've got five minutes before she comes back,' he said, all signs of pain gone. 'What the fuck is going on?'

Sirius clenched his jaw, eyes focused above James' head.

He'd learned his lesson. He wasn't going to give information where it wasn't needed. Not if it endangered her. He'd promised to protect her. Telling James, he'd quickly realised, had been a mistake. One he wouldn't be repeating.

Without a word, he turned and left the room. He didn't stop when called back and didn't think as he sat on his bed.

Elbows on his knees, head bowed, his hands held back his fringe. The Marauder let loose the frustrated growl he'd been holding back.

Fucking Evans.

He was tired of her shit. Always in his and Marley's business.

Fucking Marley.

Why was she always telling Evans their shit?

Fucking Gran-

Sirius clenched his jaw, shut his eyes and began pacing the room.

Traitorous thoughts threatened to escape his barely held control. A sudden knock rang across the room, startling him. The door revealed Pete, chewing on a chicken leg.

'Alright?' he asked around a mouth full of food.

Sirius nodded, stepping away from the door to renew his pacing.

'Good,' said Pete, still eating.

He grew distracted. Must've because when Pete called him next, he turned and the chicken leg was bare.

'Sorry.'

Sirius frowned. 'Wha-?'

He didn't see it, but he definitely felt the knuckles against his jaw.

He stumbled back a step as the room spun around him.

'What the fuck?!'

'James told me to.' The rat animagus shrugged

He didn't doubt it but he still glared and fought the urge to deck the fucking messenger.

'You didn't have to do it.'

'I know.' Peter smiled as Sirius dabbed at his lips, checking for blood. 'So what'd you do to piss him off?'

He didn't answer, just turned to stare at his large balcony doors.

'That bad huh?'

He pulled at his fags as he stepped outside.

Pete whistled. 'Man, it must be bad. Alright don't tell me but I'd talk to James if I were you. He's in no state to be dealing with your shite.'

A clap on his back and he was left alone.

Guilt spilled over. Everything that'd happened in the last twenty-four hours built up and his chest ached, his gut churned.

Sirius blinked and caught himself. He'd been staring at the village.

_It's getting wor-_

He turned. Made his way back to James' room and clenched his jaw when Lily refused to let him in.

He'd fallen asleep apparently and Sirius gave her no room to start her shit up again by turning his back on her and walking away.

Remus found him an hour later.

The anger the damn werewolf radiated was enough to fucking floor him.

A dull ache in his chest let him know the full moon was near.

'What about Hermione?'

The dog animagus shook his head. Silver meeting gold.

'It's nothing.'

Remus didn't look away as he took a closer step. His voice low and measured. 'Then why are you scared?'

'I'm not,' he lied.

The werewolf tilted his head, unblinking eyes studying him. 'You're lying.'

He opened his mouth to deny it but he didn't get that far. Remus grabbed him by his sweatshirt and slammed him against the bed post.

'Don't fucking lie!' he yelled, his words more growl than actual vowels. 'I can fucking smell it on you!'

The taller Marauder took a step back, fists clenched. He stared him down and Sirius fought the urge to look away.

'Did you fuck her?'

His mouth fell open as images from last night assaulted him. Marley's suddenly aware eyes looking up at him... Granger looking at him after he'd pushed her off of him.

His eyes slammed shut and just as quickly flew open when he felt Remus grab him again.

Face to face, Sirius could smell blood on Remus' breaths- bloke loved his steaks rare on days before the full moon.

'Did you _fuck _her?!'

He hadn't and yet, he couldn't deny he wanted to.

This... thing, that he felt for her had gotten worse. Time away from birds he tended to fan- he clenched his jaw and hands. His whole body felt strained from tension.

Distance always helped. Except this time, it hadn't.

Bloody witch popped into his fucking head unexpectedly. The sight of her flushed and panting as she looked at him …

He swallowed thickly, finally finding his voice.

'No, I haven't.'

Remus kept staring, searching for the lie.

'Towards the end, I hardly even spoke to her.'

Which was true. He'd kept his distance, just like he'd promised he would.

Remus broke the silence. His words carefully measured, like he used when trying to solve a problem.

Warning bells went off in his head again.

'The thing with Marley was an accident?'

Sirius licked his lips, nodding.

'And you've not fucked Hermione?'

A shaky nod.

'But you want to.'

It wasn't a question and they both knew it.

Another shake of his head. Shockingly, Remus caught his bullshit.

The werewolf took several steps back, 'You fancy her don't you? You fucking idiot.'

'I don't,' he replied, far too loudly and far too fast.

Sirius ran a shaky hand through his fringe, pushing away all thoughts before they fully formed.

He couldn't deal with them right now.

The fucking war was peaking. James was just beginning to heal. This thing with Gran-

He paced the room, his damn thoughts a tangled mess he couldn't begin to unwind.

With each step, his anxiety changed. Morphed and burned, demanding release.

Everything was a fucking mess.

He'd fucked up. And in more ways than one.

He should've been with James that night.

He should've looked for him.

He shouldn't have fucking told him about her.

_Her._

She was the damn reason he couldn't help James.

And now, he couldn't get her out of his bloody-sodding-fucking mind. There was a fucking war going on and he was stressed _because of her. _

_A fucking__ bird__._

Sirius turned and his raised fist slammed into Remus with a satisfying sound of flesh on flesh. He felt the blow but the pain never registered.

They tumbled on the floor. Grunting and swearing, the two Marauders aimed to hurt but neither one of them knowing why.

Several minutes later they separated. Breathing heavily, bleeding and bruised they eyed each other. Relief and tension pouring off of them both.

Sirius licked his bloody lip, watching as Remus wiped his own bloody nose.

His hands and ribs hurt but he could finally think clearly.

'Mate,' he began, his voice thick. 'I fucked up.'

He told him everything.

Maybe he'd needed advice, he didn't know.

The only thing he was sure of was that this thing with Granger had changed and it needed to stop cus fancying the bird you were meant to be protecting was wrong.

He didn't tell Remus about the small part of him that didn't give a fuck.


	22. Dog

Thank you to Dave for once again taking time off his busy schedule to beta this mess of a fic.

* * *

**Silver**

Dog

* * *

He'd accepted his death like a child would their bedtime. He didn't want to but it was inevitable.

Sirius had never expected to outlive the war.

Sure there was a vague hope in the back of his mind that he'd survive it, but he'd never actually acknowledged it. He'd given it a passing thought here and there but overall? Not really.

In times like these, it was just easier to accept your own mortality. And yet, when he'd come close to death, he'd found that he'd wanted nothing more than to live.

A clammy hand reached for his left bicep, tracing the jagged scar above his elbow.

He'd died. He was sure of it. If only for a second but he knew he had.

Caradoc insisted he'd just passed out but Sirius didn't believe it.

The sense of peace he'd felt had been far too profound to be mimicked or duplicated.

Death was unavoidable.

There was no reason to fear it. People died every day and not just because of war. Young and old, eventually, everything died.

No one lived forever.

He took a drag of his cigarette as another whimper reached his ears.

Sirius bowed his head, running a trembling hand through his fringe. His foot tapping away as he reached for his flask.

Another cry.

He twisted the cap until a small, engraved arrow pointed at two letters, MW. Muggle whisky.

He didn't know the make or year of it but he didn't care. Knowing his uncle it would be a vague, expensive drink. Brewed once every three hundred years by some secretive organisation with a highly hush-hush recipe. Either way it was delicious and smooth. The Marauder didn't know how long the refilling charm would last but he fucking wished it was forever.

There was that word again.

For- another cry.

Sirius slammed his eyes shut.

He didn't need this shit.

He just wanted to sleep. Not to drink. Or _have_ to drink in order to sleep.

Peter needed to shut the fuck up.

He was asleep in bed and still the bloke was fucking complaining. All that whimpering and crying- bloody noise was doing his head in.

Pete just needed to man up. Death was unavoidable. There was no stopping it and he- he needed to fucking _stop. _Crying about it wasn't going to help, he had to know that.

Sirius took deep breaths as the room swam before his eyes. His chest ached. His throat burned.

His eyes clenched tighter at the next cry.

Pete needed to stop.

His head was aching, it was late and he was tired. He just wanted to sleep.

Another whimper. Muttered words. Another cry.

'No ... Please ... don't kill me.'

Pete was begging for his life.

_In his sleep._

Anger bubbled in his chest. Fucking _infuriated_ him and he stood. Reached for his hoodie and aimed for the door.

Wormtail was staying across the hall, if only for the night.

He knocked on the door and called his name, but no answer came.

Pete just kept crying and after several seconds of debate, Sirius pushed open the door.

'No ... No ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry...'

The bloke was twisting and turning, entangled in his own sheets as he squirmed. He could see the moonlight glistening off his sweating forehead, tears running down his face.

'No... don't hurt them... please...'

'Pete,' he whispered. His voice thick. 'Wake up.'

Wormtail just kept crying.

'Mate, wake up now.'

More crying and whimpering and sleep-muttered words met him. It made his gut ache and he clenched his fists.

'Pete. Wake up,' he said, his frustration building. Sirius moved next to him, shaking him as he spoke. 'Pete.'

'No,' moaned Wormtail as he clutched at himself and began to rock. 'Not my mum. Please, please...'

'Pete!' he yelled with a hard shake and the rat animagus' eyes shot open.

Wild and rolling eyes met his. A wand was pulled from beneath a pillow and he had just enough time to duck before a neon green spell was fired off, hitting the wall behind him with an echoing blast.

'Wha-' said Pete before an ear-splitting siren rang out around them.

Both Marauders covered their ears. Dazed and wondering what the fuck was going on when Pete's door flew off its hinges.

Sirius reached for his wand but panicked the second he realised he'd left it in his room.

He cursed his stupidity just as Pete pushed him aside, trembling wand raised.

Grey eyes darted to the dark figure stood in the doorway. A spell was fired and he dropped to the floor, head covered as spells soared overhead.

There was yelling and someone was screaming. Flashes of light painted the walls and Pete was moving past him. His feet retreating as the figure moved closer.

A bang, a flash and it was over.

Pete shouted. There was a thump and the room lit up, blinding him.

He clutched at his head. His body trembling with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He wanted to look up.

But ... he couldn't.

His body was stiff. He couldn't move and he suspected a spell but dismissed the idea when his clawed fingers pulled on his hair.

He couldn't move and he was going to die.

He was going to die on the floor, covering his head. Wandless and defenceless. _He was going to die._

Pete whimpered. Someone was yelling and he heard it all through the rush of his heartbeat, thrumming in his ears.

He couldn't breathe. His lungs weren't working right and he was too hot and he. Couldn't. Breathe.

He sat up, not aware that he was doing it.

Sirius pulled at his sweatshirt. The hoodie tight around his neck. The heat of it was suffocating him and he tried to get it off but he couldn't.

His chest tightened. His vision blurred. His hands were shaking and his throat hurt.

'Quiet!'

There was a flash and a bang and he shuddered. His back hit the bed and he swallowed thickly. Heaving through the moment as he fought the urge to run.

Sirius blinked his eyes open and turned his head. More of a lolling action, it swayed towards the room's doorway.

Mr Potter cut an imposing figure.

Wand steady, his eyes swept the room before landing on him.

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat. His breathing ragged. Head pounding.

'Transform,' ordered the older wizard.

He heard the words but they made no sense. Again Mr Potter repeated his command.

'Transform. Now!'

Sirius frowned at the man, eyeing his wand. The tip was glowing purple and... he didn't understand.

Transform? Into what? What did he mean?

And then it clicked. Slowly, carefully, he understood.

Grey eyes studied the wizard before him.

He knew about the Marauder's being animagi.

Mr Potter's wand flared and tendrils of purple lighting, crackled around the tip. The spell ready and willing.

Sirius stood. His legs shaking, knees weak. He didn't look away from the powerful man before him.

Ripples of magic vibrated across his skin. A glowing warmth that began in his gut and moved outwards as the world shifted before his eyes. Colours bled themselves into shades of grey and the sickly scent of fear overwhelmed his senses.

It was everywhere. He smelled it on Pete, whose whimpers pierced his ears and he smelt it on Mr Potter as well.

The older wizard's eyes grew wide for a second before moving past him. His echoing words moved over him and he found himself inconvenienced by the sudden growl the wizard let loose.

He lay on the floor as a yawn escaped him. Instinct telling him that sleep was preferable to all this nonsense.

He lay on his side and shut his eyes before the a familiar smell reached him.

He sniffed and shook his nose, covering it with a paw as the smell of rat reached his snout.

Padfoot turned to look behind him just as a furry thing ran across the room and hid under a chest of drawers.

A laugh echoed across the room and his tail wagged at the sound.

The black dog stood, grey eyes on the man approaching and he ducked his head.

Mr Potter knelt, studying him. Grey eyes, usually a vibrant hazel, roamed over his form. A cautious hand touched his fur and moved over his head.

'Figures you'd be a bloody dog,' he said. He gestured towards the door with a nod of his head. 'Go show Phemmy, she's wondered what you'd look like for ages.'

A huff and he moved towards the door.

Sudden squeals reached his sensitive ears. Cries of fear and pleads for help. Incoherent as they were, he understood their meaning perfectly.

Wormtail didn't want him to leave. He wanted him to stay.

But he couldn't.

Instinct told him to leave. His humanity told him to stay. Peter needed him.

But it was too much.

Sirius couldn't take it. Padfoot wanted no part of it.

It was all too much and he was tired. Guilt pulled at him as he walked out the room and it followed him as Wormtail's screams rang in his ears.

'It's okay Peter,' said the soothing of Mr Potter. 'Just come on out. It's okay.'

His feet guided him to the darkened corridor that led to the family wing.

Sudden light blinded him and he whined. A gasp and the hall lit with golden light as the sconces burned with white and grey fire.

'Oh fucking hell,' breathed the witch. Her wand arm falling beside her.

She took a step forward, watching him as he trotted by and pawed at the door. Mrs Potter stood frozen for a second before she darted down the hall without a backwards glance.

'Fleamont!' she shouted, her voice panicked.

Her scent of fear lingering on his nose. Another sniff as he pawed at the door and it swung open.

Lily stood before him, wand aimed at him. Her mouth open and eyes wide.

'Oh my God,' she said. Eyes darting to the wizard lying in bed.

'Padfoot,' said James, his voice cracking. 'What's going on?'

That same sickly stench filled the room and he changed back before the odour overwhelmed him.

His magic vibrated and his bones tingled and Lily sat back on the bed with her mouth gaping.

'Holy shit,' she breathed. 'It's true. You fuckers actually did it.'

Sirius ignored her, grey eyes on his best friend whose worried face stared him down.

'Everything's fine,' he said. Pete,' his voice catching at the name. 'He- he had a nightmare.'

And it was that simple wasn't it?

He'd had a nightmare.

It was that easy explain away and that hard to justify.

He ignored the guilt he felt and pushed it aside. It wasn't the time to think about these things. Not yet.

Maybe once the war was over. Maybe then he'd think about it all. Right now he had to swear at James.

'What the fuck is your problem?' he asked James as he began to frown. 'How many people did you tell? We'd bloody promised! Fucking sworn not to say shit and here you are telling mummy, daddy and your bird.'

The stag animagus clenched his jaw as his features turned hard. 'I had to tell them,' he said. 'Otherwise you wouldn't have been allowed in the house.'

He paused. Sirius hadn't known what to expect but that sure as hell wasn't it. He blinked shaking his head.

He licked his lips and thought over James' words. Yeah, it didn't make sense.

'He's telling the truth,' Lily said but he ignored her.

He had nothing to say to her and this was none of her business. Evans didn't have a damn thing to do with this.

It was between James, The Marauders and a broken promise.

They'd sworn as kids not to tell. Ever. And until now, only Remus' parents had known. And only because a worried Hope had needed reassuring that Remus had real friends.

And now the Potter's knew. And Evans fucking knew.

'Explain,' he said. Eyes trained on a defiant James.

'He had to do it Sirius.'

'Shut the fuck up!' he shouted at her. Eyes darting to the witch. 'Stay the fuck out of it. This has nothing to do with you. I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to him!'

The redhead stood, green eyes glaring. Her mouth opening to respond but James' voice cut her off.

'Don't fucking talk to her like that,' he growled. Hazel eyes boring into his own. Prongs shifted in his bed, sitting up further. 'I had to tell them-'

'-He really did...'

'Lily,' he said, turning to the witch. His tone brooking no argument. 'Stop it.'

Evans bristled, like she had any fucking right to be upset. As if this involved her somehow. If she didn't like it, she should've just stayed the fuck out of it.

The pair watched each other. Some type of argument flowing between them and finally Evans looked away and stormed out. The door slamming behind her.

Sirius snorted at the melodrama of it all. Damn witch had the nerve to be in everybody's business but the second you told her off for it, she became the victim.

Stupid bitch.

'Mum and Dad didn't want anyone to leave the house,' started James. 'Dad's been paranoid after he found me. Keeps expecting an attack. And when he found out that you lot have been in and out of the house, he got worse. What if they got to us through you?'

It hurt. The implied mistrust bothered him more than it should have. He wasn't family, he was a liability.

He was a Black.

'It's nothing to do with you,' James hurried to say. 'It's just... Dad's worried. Mum's scared. They closed down the Manor, you know they have. They did it long before I got hurt. All the doors were closed, only one Floo works. They stopped receiving owls. Fucking hell, even Batty has a Portkey to get in and out of the house. And Mum and her are seriously close. Hell, only one of the house elves are allowed to leave.' Prongs shook his head. 'When Dad realised you three were coming and going as you pleased ... Wanted you to either stay in or stay out. Said he needed definitive proof to know it was you and not some Polyjuiced impersonator. Everything I said was pushed aside and dismissed. Nothing was good enough. No secret was big enough. He didn't think there was any way to tell for sure that you were who you said you were. I got frustrated and it slipped out. He thought I was lying. Mum and Lily did too but they gave me the benefit of a doubt. I didn't mean to tell them but I'm not sorry for it either.'

Sirius clenched his jaw as he shifted from one foot to another.

He still didn't like it.

James, if what he said was true, was justified in what he did. But he'd still told.

Granted, it'd been a childish promise borne out of loyalty and friendship, but it'd mattered. Realistically, there was no reason to think it would've always stayed between the four of them.

Wives would've eventually come into play. Relationships much bigger than a friendship would've become a priority and keeping secrets between friends wouldn't have been as important.

Still, it'd been a promise. One that his fifteen year old self had valued. At twenty-one, he now realised that was foolish but it still hurt.

They'd lost the map. They'd stopped running under the full moon and now their last secret had been told.

Everything that'd made them the Marauders had gone.

It was ridiculous really. Friendships grew and changed and he didn't talk to anyone from his Hogwarts days anymore. Only the Marauders, Marley and Lily.

So it was stupid that he'd expected them four to never change. Now that it was painfully obvious that he had, it made his chest hurt.

What were they if not the Marauders?

'You shouldn't have told,' he said and left the room.

* * *

The weight and feel of the wand was strange and foreign.

It'd been too long since she'd owned one that it felt surreal. Like the hand holding it wasn't hers.

'Are you sure?' she asked again, studying the worn wood.

'Absolutely.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't know Batty.'

'You may as well love. It's been locked up for years, unused. Doesn't respond to me anymore and you need one. Times aren't exactly safe in case you haven't noticed.'

Two sets of eyes moved towards the newspaper on the tea table between them.

_Ministry Confirms: Twenty-eight Disappearances This Week, No Leads_

'We can't afford to have you wandless.'

'Dumbledore-'

'Told me not to arm you. Which is why I did.'

She was tempted but she'd gone so long without one that it'd become a new normal but-

'My magic.'

Batty leant against her chair, propping her feet on the coffee table. 'It'll come... Go on. Give her a try.'

The older woman waved a hand and fire bloomed from her palm. A flick of her fingers and the flames moved to the candles before them.

Hermione measured the weight of the wand.

It was the length of her forearm. A golden brown with runes engraved into the wood. She recognised a few: Knowledge, Power, Hope.

'What's the core again?' she asked.

'Dragon heartstring. It stopped working for me after my husband died. Ollivander said his slow death had changed me.' She shrugged. 'Frankly, I think it was the process itself not his actual death but there you are.'

'It just stopped working?' she asked, frowning.

Batty nodded, rubbing tired eyes with a wrinkled hand. 'Yup. He died and the next day, nothing. Magic went all wonky and it misfired when it managed to work. Turns out I'd changed far too much for it to recognise me. Go on then,' she yawned, gesturing at the candles. 'While we're young.'

She waved the wand and felt foolish- which was soon replaced by a rush of pride as the candlelight wisped into smoke.

Hermione beamed, her surprise and shock morphing into unadulterated happiness. It'd been a long time since she'd successfully cast a spell. On purpose anyway.

'Will you look at that?' said Batty. 'Magic.'

There had been some resistance towards the end though.

Hermione hadn't won it. Nor had it chosen her. It wasn't hard to cast the spell. It'd been easy and natural but the pull at the end served to remind her that the wand held no allegiance to her.

Nothing like her vine wand, which had always been her willing partner. Nowhere near as combative as Bellatrix's had been though.

This wand lay somewhere in between as a cold splash of reality.

'I don't know Batty. Dumbledore gave explicit orders.'

The older witch nodded. 'Yeah, he did and I don't care. You need a wand, so shut the fuck up and levitate a thing.'

Instinct made her reach out with a hand and a book across the room levitated inches off the table.

'That's nice but I meant with the wand.'

Hermione blinked and felt her face flush. She'd already forgotten about the damn thing in her hand.

'It's alright love. You've relied on bits and pieces of wandless magic, but now you have to get used to a wand again.'

Her skin prickled. A rush of heat pooled on her fingertips as the words left her lips.

'Wingardium Leviosa.'

The wandtip glowed and she felt the magic flow towards and connect with the book. It shook and rattled. Moved an inch or so to the left before it bounced off the table and flopped to the floor.

'You flourished too much.'

Hermione nodded her agreement. She'd realised it the second she'd done it.

The younger witch shut her eyes and breathed.

_Okay_.

'Wingardium Leviosa.'

The book wiggled, moved and slowly it began to rise. The wand pulled a bit to the left and she turned her wrist. Palm up she moved the book back onto the table and felt the wand snap back as it released the spell.

The brunette turned to Batty and caught her watching the wand. _Her_ wand now, she supposed.

'Batty-' she started, unsure about what she wanted to say.

She shouldn't have it but as much as she'd argued over keeping it- she _wanted_ it. But it wasn't hers. And Dumbledore had said-

'Did I ever tell you about my husband?'

Hermione paused, biting her lip. Dark eyes studied the tiny witch before her. Eyes closed, wrinkled hands on her belly.

'No, you haven't.'

Batty hummed. 'His name was Matthew and hated it when people called him Matt. So naturally, I always called him Matt.'

A soft smile pulled at the older witch's lips but it never fully formed.

Light green eyes opened and peered at her. She raised a hand and waved at her. 'Get on with it.'

'Incendio,' she murmured, wand pointed at the candles.

The wand sparked but the spell fizzled. She felt it in her wrist. Like someone had grabbed it and pulled- a quick hold and release. A jolt of magic with no result. She'd felt it though, bubbling beneath her skin, rushing towards her fingers and down the wand before it'd faded away.

Hermione licked her lips and sat up straighter, glaring at the wand in her hand.

'We met in Los Angeles during a Magical Historical Committee to discuss the safe removal of magical and historic artefacts from Muggles round the world. He spearheaded the campaign. I opposed it.'

'Why?' she asked before thinking.

Batty didn't open her eyes as she spoke. 'Because he was wrong and I was right. Put more juice in the wording. '

'Incendio,' she said louder and again, she felt the spell gather momentum before fading away.

'Matt insisted that it was for the safety of Muggles that we remove artefacts from their possession. I, of course, knew better. If the magical community discovered that rich Muggles held important artefacts, regardless of believing them pretty but useless, how many witches and wizards would've hunted these Muggles down?'

She almost argued the point that the large part of the Wizarding world wouldn't really care. Short of the artefact being a relic of some powerful witch or wizard, no one would be interested. But then, her mind whispered, some would.

_Voldemort_.

He'd travelled to Albania in the strength of a rumour...

Yeah. Batty had been right.

She lifted the wand once more and this time, the spell worked.

It rushed down her arm, tingling in her fingertips as it moved the length of the wand. The three candles before her danced with flames.

'Matt argued that it was dangerous. That Muggles could accidentally find a way to activate the magic. I called him an idiot. Muggles could no more figure it out than _we_ can find a way to get to the moon.' She waved an airy hand, chuckling as she did. 'He got so mad. Right then and there, in front of hundreds of the world's leading historians, we argued. He told me to stick to the kitchen, I told him to stick it up his arse. He called me obscene, I called him a knobhead. He didn't understand what that meant, he was American, but he sure as hell got insulted. My tone was unnecessary apparently.'

The younger witch smiled as she blew out the candles with a flick of the wand.

'How did you two manage to get married?'

Batty opened her eyes and sat up straighter with a yawn. A white eyebrows arched. 'Bitch, if you wanna know, you gotta work for it.'

With a pointed look at the wand in her hand, Batty reached for the tea beside her. 'Try Accio.'

Hermione pointed at the remote control atop the telly. She focused on it and it alone. Said the word and felt the warmth of magic moving through her, concentrated on it and- nothing.

It didn't work. The remote wiggled and didn't move anymore.

The brunette sighed as she leant against the cushion at her back.

'Once more love.'

She flicked her eyes to Batty who watched her with a calm that she herself did not feel.

She felt stupid.

Having to relearn all of this was embarrassing. Insulting. Demeaning.

Batty seemed to understand.

'I had to practice magic after Matt passed too. I know you feel embarrassed but get over it. You have to do this and there's no point in wallowing over it.'

Hermione focused and raised her wand. The word left her lips with ease and she sat up when the spell pulled the remote a few inches in her direction, before falling.

'He was much older than I when we married you know. I was twenty four, he was forty-eight. I was literally half his age... his affliction started to show ten years into the marriage. It started off simple. He'd forget the names of little things and he'd laugh it off. And then one day, he'd misplaced his wand. Couldn't find it. He was frantic and when I looked at him, I sort of froze- he'd been holding it. Mediwizards and Muggle doctors said it was just age but I know it wasn't that. Look at me, my tits are old and saggy and I'm still kicking... Whatever it was, eventually, he stopped being able to function on his own. Then one day, I looked at him and he didn't recognise me. He wasn't my Matt anymore, just the shell. I took care of him until he passed and on the day of his burial,' she nodded at the wand in Hermione's hand, 'It stopped working. At fifty-two, I had to relearn all the magic I'd known. Like a damn first year. So don't feel stupid over it. Shit happens love and sometimes, you have no choice but to fucking deal with it and move on.'

The remote flew into her waiting hand with the whispered incantation. Her previous question bursting from her mouth.

'How did you go from fighting to married?'

Batty's tinkling laugh rang across the room. 'I proved his argument wrong. In front of the entire committee, I made him look stupid and it turns out he'd liked that. That night, he knocks on my door and falls on bended knee. I pointed that wand at his face and told him to fuck off. He asked again, argued his case and after several seconds of consideration, I agreed. Figured I could do a lot worse. Unmarried, opinionated young woman who didn't want kids... no man would've admitted to wanting me. Turns out he'd never married because the women he'd always come across, did as told. As he put it, fuck it, why not? He took me to his priest and requested that he marry us as soon as possible. The Muggle refused so I lied about being pregnant. He married us a few minutes later, after seven hours of having met each other.'

Hermione gaped at the older woman. 'Batty!'

Said witch shrugged, yawning as she stood. 'Not everything has to make sense for it to work love. Especially when certain kinds of magic are involved. Oh fucking hell,' she groaned, her hands reaching for her lower back. 'I'm getting too old for this standing crap. Should just bloody well stay in bed all day.'

She watched as the older woman rubbed her back and began to move. 'Don't focus too much on your actions Hermione,' Batty said. 'When you think about it, the spells don't work. When you're distracted, they do. Use that, it could help.'

Hermione sighed, she'd noticed that too. It was hard though. Not concentrating made her magic work which was ridiculous and an oxymoron. She had to concentrate on not concentrating. An ache behind her eyes let her know she needed to stop for the night.

The young witch shuffled the wand between her hands, wondering if Batty was absolutely positive she should keep it. Before she could ask however, Batty left the room with a muttered goodnight.

Her mouth fell open, a calling cry dying in her throat.

Batty said the wand was hers now. Insisted on it and she honestly didn't want to question it any more than necessary.

Dumbledore... they'd deal with him when the time came. His disapproval wasn't going to go anywhere.

She raised her wand and just as quickly dropped it. She felt exhausted. A deep heaviness in her bones that had nothing to do with sleep or physical exertion.

Bed was in order but she didn't want that either. Nor did she want to go upstairs.

She wanted a walk.

Hermione gathered up her jumper and walked out through the garden door. Her personal alarm system was only rigged to the house, she and Batty had found. As long as she left through the garden, the alarms wouldn't activate.

Batty had wondered if it'd been an actual oversight on Dumbledore's part, or there by design.

She on the other hand, hadn't really cared.

Hermione was now resigned to a life of careful study. As long as she was safe, she could deal with the rest.

The witch drummed her wand against her thigh, as the autumn air stung her cheeks.

October was three days away.

Ten months she'd been stuck in the past and though it'd been against her will... she'd now accepted it.

This, here in Godric's Hollow, with Batty and Hooky- it was home.

She missed her mum and dad. Harry and Ron. The Weasley and all those she'd cared for. They were there, if not physically.

They'd been her purpose, once upon a time. And maybe that was the reason why she'd been unable to let go sooner rather than later. Keeping her loved ones safe had been her job. Without them... she'd been lost.

Hermione turned the corner and cut through the graveyard.

She needed to focus on herself now.

Her mum and dad would've wanted that. So would Ron and Harry.

They would all want her to have a happy life. To live and not wallow in a past that would no longer be her future.

Unfortunately for her, she didn't know what that entailed and _that_ was the terrifying part.

The witch left the graveyard without a backwards glanced. Her booted feet guiding her towards the bridge.

_What could the future hold for a time-traveller?_

She didn't know but- Hermione stopped mid-step. Eyes wide, she took a step back, stopping atop the curved centre of the bridge. Fear gripped her, tightened her chest at the sight of the large dog but it just as quickly faded away.

Hermione studied Padfoot.

His coat was longer, darker and he looked far healthier than she had ever seen but she recognised him nonetheless.

His thick and glossy fur, a dark contrast to the moonlight shining around him. His tail dropped, wagging slowly as his ears twitched in her direction.

Beautiful, knowing grey eyes watched her.

Her lips curled. Pulled at her the corners of her mouth as her heart raced.

He moved. Watched her and tilted his head.

Hermione licked her lips, unsure about what she should do. Once upon a time, Hermione would've talked to him but in this time, she wasn't meant to know about him.

The dog animagus whined and growled and she took a step back when it sat on its haunches and suddenly stood.

Fur receded into skin. Ears shortened, a snout became a nose and as his limbs elongated into arms and legs, Sirius was there. Walking towards her and joy at seeing him after weeks and days of absence, bloomed in her chest.

He smiled, walking towards her. A soft smile on his lips.

The Marauder stopped, mere steps away from her. Their heights even, now that they were on uneven footing.

Light eyes studied her features and she drank him in, his smile brilliant.

'Hey,' he said. His voice a soft whisper. 'Fancy meeting you here.'

* * *

**A/N:** _Pottermore_ said my patronus is a fucking mouse called a vole.

It's smol and cute and strikes fear in the heart of no one. I am annoyed. _David_ was of no help as he awwed and n'awwed telling me it fit. Meanwhile his patronus was a fucking white stallion. Practically a unicorn without the damn horn. People, how the fuck am I going to intimidate Dementors when my short ass is running after my damn patronus trying to boop it?

_Ugh._

Anyway I named it Maddy on account of irony.

So yeah. New and older readers alike, I hope this update finds you well and that you enjoyed reading it. Many thanks to all of you for following/faving. Extra special thanks to those of you who review. If you have the chance, please go on my bio and look at my other works. _Pick_ and at mine and Dave's joint fic, _The Amalgamation Agreement._ Thank you for reading, please review and let me know what your pratronus is if you took the test.

\- Erica x


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